Swan and Goose

When I was younger - quite a bit younger, and living at home Mum and Dad had chooks. Mum, my brother and I went and picked them after school in a box from a man whose chicken farm is now covered in MacMansions, and right next door to a set of traffic lights.
Six - (from memory) little black australorps. Nice chickens as far as chickens go - but here was a new discovery - I was terrified of things with feathers. And not only the feathered part but those yellow eyes - and the way they would flap and carry on.
Lets just say if everyone else was away and the feeding of the chooks was my job then their food and scraps were chucked through the wire and I walked a very tentative 12 feet to get the eggs - and only if it was my job more then two days running - otherwise the eggs could wait.
You can imagine my delight then the day that a Kurrawong got itself tangled up in the wire mesh and baling twin on top of the chook pen - trapped and in danger of losing his foot. Now there's a beady eye to be wary of.
But the thing about a trapped animal is that terrified of it or otherwise you just have to deal with it... you can't leave it and you can't ignore it and you can't hope that someone else is going to fix it.
So Kurrawong rescue was my first dealing with my feathered fear - after that the chickens were a piece of cake. Still not a fan of them flapping around - but ok.
My next feathered encounter happened when I lived at Cradle Mt- I rescued a owl which had been hit by a car and was sitting in the middle of the road - duly wrapped in my walking coat on the floor in the front of the car and delivered to the wildlife park. He was a peaceful little fellow - but he was a tad smelly.
Then there was a Kookaburra - so it should have come as no surprise to me yesterday to be met with my biggest bird yet.
The black swans have been nesting and rearing their grey babies now for some weeks - and driving the same way each day you see the families day in and day out.
Yesterday as I drove to feed Peri - I came around a corner in the road to see a grey cygnet - well assuming it is still called a cygnet - in that it is fully grown - but it's feathers are a combination of grey and black - sitting beside the road - next to a five strand barbed wire fence.
G-REAT! Now here's the thing - I could have driven by but no - you have to stop don't you.
You get out of the ute - now stranded in the middle of the road with it's hazard light on and you deal with it.
But let me tell you these are bloody big birds - seriously big - and he/she got itself to it's feet but was limping and though pretty obviously not in immediate danger from it's current injuries it was still on the road and a car would take care of things pretty quickly.
Bugger - "look" says I to the swan - you need to go through that fence and onto the dam"
I think I may have even pointed to make myself clear.
To which the swan did nothing bar hiss at me pretty terrifyingly to back off and I most certainly did. Now this happened a couple more times - and I thought "what the hell do I do now"
I know I will get a horse rug out of the car - throw that over it and then lift it over the fence.
And of course I didn't have a nice dark blue quiet horse rug in the car - nope just a nice white, bright yellow and black check - super.
So I walk toward bird- not confidently I must say folding and unfolding said rug - which in hindsight must have looked a bit like a blood great bird to the swan - and here my courage fails me - it snakes that bloody head with it's big red beak at me - hissing the entire time - I have visions of it getting it's head out of the rug as I am trying to lower it over the fence - which I realise now is too high - and I would then no doubt drop already injured bird and so obviously this was a good plan but clearly here my courage fails me.
I am not sure how many time I have said - "look" out loud - to the swan "look you just have to go through the fence" - it is now lieing in the ditch by the side of the road - thinking climb through it yourself.
Right thinks I - I will drive down the road to the neighbour - and they can come and give me a hand - a couple more seconds spent folding and unfolding the horse rug in the road - flagging down any incoming birds - hazard light on car blinking merrily - nope thinks I time to call in back up. Put the horse rug back in the ute, get in - put on my seat belt - turn off the hazard lights and bugger me if the swan doesn't make one enormous effort and squeeze through the fence and limp half way up the dam wall and lie merrily down.
And I although happy that the swan is out of danger - do feel like a right goose - knowing that the farmers in the two farms have no doubt been watching me do the tartan rug swan dance to the morning sun in the middle of the road in Harford.