The Cycle of Life in the River

Yesterday started like most others around here, up at the buttquack of dawn and out the door to be greeted by this:

This is just a small contingent of those who faithfully, every morning, quack me up.  In return, I am very generous with the Ole Roy. (Bread, contrary to popular belief, is not good for ducks/geese-it can contribute to a condition called angel wing, which prevents them from flying.  It is also very difficult to store in the quantities you have to buy it in to feed this many mouths beaks bills without having raccoons, possums, or rats getting into it.  Dog food was highly recommended as a substitute for duck feed, and it has the added benefit of floating. Turtles love it, too.)

Well, today there is one less mouth to feed.  My neighbor discovered this on his way home yesterday afternoon:

I can't tell what happened, but I have two educated guesses.  The first is based on the location of the body.  It is in a little canal off of the river right beside the bridge that leads back to the houseboats.  There are several transients people who have been staying in one of the rentals back there who have no emotional attachment to this little piece of heaven on earth or its inhabitants.  They don't realize how much time, money and effort were put into our little road, and they tear up and down it like they are four wheeling.  It is very possible that one of them hit the goose, probably not even realizing it.

The other possibility is more grim.  

I guess everybody knows one-I've known a couple of them in my lifetime.  You know, when someone gets a pet that they just can't keep for some reason?  That friend that always pipes up and says, "I'll keep it."  Nice people.  Well intentioned.  But for some reason, they always live on a curve.  Or have incredibly bad luck.  *shakes head*  Whatever.  They take said pet, and feed it and play with it now and then, but they don't (a) keep it in the house or (b) keep it on a leash or (c) keep it in a fenced yard.  Invariably, SOMEHOW, within months, it is dead.  

Well, one of those people lives around here.  This time, the animalS this person has 'taken in' are two beautiful blonde labs.  They look to be around a year, maybe a year and a half old, both males.  Rambunctious.  Since they are 'staying with' this person, they have the run of the neighborhood, and they have chosen to base themselves in the parking lot of the Shingle Mill. Typical young dogs, running around chasing cars...and ducks and geese.  I don't know.  I did not see any signs of trauma, but then again, I can only see one side of the body.  I would think, though, if a dog had gotten it, there would be feathers everywhere and there aren't.

Then again, it may have just been its time.  

There is an appointed time for everything. 
And there is a time for every event under heaven -
A time to give birth, and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
- Ecclesiastes, 3:1-2