My gander, Andy White, has lost his mind. His wife’s new egg-laying domesticity has inflamed his sense of responsibility to insane heights. He screams and flaps his wings and threatens everything indiscriminately, overflowing with pride.
Two days ago he attacked my 1200-pound cow, Katika, as she went down the barn aisle to go outside. As she swayed past Birch’s stall, home of The Nest, he ran at her, hissing, and pinched her udder. She was so startled she did a matronly hop in the air, accidentally bowling him over and stepping on him. He picked himself up, adjusted his clothes, and pretended it was all part of his plan.
I am very careful not to upset him. I walk past him firmly and pay no attention when he grabs my pant’s leg and and experiments with a vicious twist. (It is easy to ignore such things when wearing padded coveralls. Warm weather may bring a change in my response.)
Yesterday at morning chores Andy decided that valor called for keeping all the other creatures from the paddock water trough. He patrolled diligently … goose-stepping.
Mission accomplished! A scream and a victory dance…
We’ll all be glad when hormones subside back to normal levels.