IT’S CRUNCH
AFTER a mollycoddled goslinghood spent eating chicken mash and wholemeal bread, watching “telly” and “helping” Marlene and John Parison from Giru with the gardening, Crunch the magpie goose is coming to grips with life in the wild.
Instead of settling down to watch his favourite fishing and wildlife shows on daytime TV, Crunch is now on full alert out there in the animal kingdom, keeping one wingbeat away from prowling dingoes and crocodiles down at the Wongaloo Wetlands (Cromarty Wetlands).
John and Marlene were preparing to leave for dinner at the Giru International Hotel one fine evening in early March when they were distracted by their dogs barking at something under the farm quad bike. Thinking it might be a snake, John went over only to discover a “fourinch-high, ball of fluff”. It was a baby magpie goose. A tiny gosling.
“We think the mum must have walked through the yard with her little tribe and something has happened. The dogs must have started barking and mum has got a fright and hurried away with the rest of the little ones and somehow one was left behind,” Marlene said.
“We took it over to a sugarcane headland where there was some water, thinking mum would come back, but it followed us back to the car. We took it to the hotel, hoping there would be a child we could give it to. There were no children that night and that’s how we came to have Crunch.
“He was named by our four- year-old grandson, Tait. We kept Crunch in a shoebox for a few days and then a chicken coop in the yard. We had to make sure he was locked up whenever we weren’t around because we were worried hawks would get him.”
Crunch had his own tub of water beside his coop. It became his personal swimming pool and he would paddle around in it every day, making a regular goose of himself.
It is likely Crunch and his siblings had only just hatched when he was found sheltering under the quad bike. Because he was so young when discovered, he immediately imprinted his behaviour on John and Marlene. He followed them around the yard, sat in the house and watched TV, and generally just hung out with them, thinking he was some sort of cool human.
You can take the magpie goose out of the swamp, but you
can’t ’t t take k th the swamp of the magpie goose. One day a gulp of shags flew over the house and Crunch, who by this time was starting to test his wings, was so overcome with excitement, he jumped up in the air, found he could fly and soared off into the wild, blue yonder with what he thought were his new pals. Something must have happened up there in the clouds. Either Crunch decided something just wasn’t right or the shags, realising they had an interloper in their midst, set upon him like bouncers on a drunk outside a Flinders Street East nightclub. Crunch had his numbers well and truly crunched. He hurried back home, narrowly missing powerlines on his hurried approach into the yard and settled himself down. In no time at all, he was back in the sanctuary of the Parisons’ loungeroom, feet up, watching the wildebeest brave the crocodileinfested rivers while crossing the Serengeti. It was as if the shag experience had never happened.
All good things must end. A week ago the Parisons decided it was time for Crunch to become a fully fledged magpie goose. No more chicken mash, TV and strolls around the garden. The honk of the wild could no longer be ignored.
John and Marlene took Crunch to the Wongaloo Wetlands just to the north of Giru. John stood with him on one side of the great lagoon as the awe-stricken goose looked at the hundreds of his own kind feeding, preening and honking away over on the other side. He looked both excited and confused. This was his moment of reckoning. Will I or won’t I? John walked away and left Crunch there, staring out over the water at his own kind, desperately trying to gather the nerve to go over and join his new family.
Crunch is there now, one of the gang. Head down, bum up in the water, looking for food.
Hopefully, he has made some friends. The Parisons have been told by others with similar experiences to expect him to turn up unannounced one on day. It will be like: “Hi guys, I’m back ba to say gidday. Just wanted to make m sure you’re okay. I’m fine. Thanks Th for asking. Life’s good out there th on the wetland, but those dingoes di and crocs are a pain in the butt. bu But, you get that. Well, nice chatting. ch Gotta fly. See ya.” And that could be the last time they see Crunch.
Recognising Reg
LOOK out, former Iggy Park teacher turned Cungulla fishing consultant Dennis Mccloskey is on