UGH! My last goose is gone. Every morning I let her out of her custom little goose hut to wander an enclosed yard with 5 foot rolled wire (nothing can get in) with freshly planted rye and her own swimming pool and every night at sunset she goes back into her little house and I lock her in with a snap lock that coons can't figure out. I used to have a pair, but lost the gander awhile back.
But I guess even our best intentions don't always come thru - last night at sunset I found her crouched down by her house - her head was chewed on with punctures through her neck, the big black knob on her nose was torn off and hanging and her upper bill was broken almost in half. She comes hobbling over tome and sits at my feet all cold and in shock and breathing irregularly. I took her into the garage (it was dark already outside) and looked her over - her wounds were beyond repair and even if I did patch her up, the risk of sepsis was too great - I think a vertebrae was broken in her neck as well. I just couldn't fix it this time.
I HATE HATE HATE having to put animals down that have been chewed up and are still walking around suffering and I hate it when they are pets and not just a Jane Doe. UGH. Hubby is great with a gun and quick. Usually coons cause these kinds of messes, but usually after dark during the wee hours of the morning. This poor gal had gotten attacked sometime around 5 -7pm yesterday eve. I'm thinking bob cat or some sort of large feline type that can climb a fence and hunts during the day. She lasted the longest - never been able to keep waterfowl around (even protected) for more than two years. **** varmits.