When I was a child on the family farm in the Manawatu, my uncle had a flock of geese which mostly kept to themselves far away in the back paddock.

The hens had their own fowl yard with plenty of room for scratching in the soil for insects and enjoying dust baths in the sun. Ducks wandered around not far from the house and cowshed. But the geese stayed at the back at the farm and were seldom seen.

One day my uncle was on his rounds when he found an abandoned nest of goose eggs. Geese tend not to be good mothers and this one had deserted her family before they were even hatched. My uncle didn't know whether the eggs would be any good but he took them back to the house, wrapped them warmly and put them in the hot water cupboard … just in case.

Time went by and at last one of the eggs hatched. Most were infertile or the embryos had died but a healthy gosling emerged from the last egg. He spent his early life in that same hot water cupboard, safe and warm amidst the sheets, pillowcases and towels. The first creature he saw was a human, peering in at him, tempting him with finely ground mash. He grew strong and healthy, and my uncle called him Tweety.

When he was big enough to explore the farmyard, the ducks became his friends. He'd roam around with them, never far from the house and cowshed. When I felt in the mood I'd go out and turn over planks of rotting wood so he could peck at the wood lice crawling over the surface. He loved those slaters.

The only moments of distress in Tweety's life came when he was out strolling with the ducks. Being much smaller, they could squeeze easily under five-bar gates to go from paddock to paddock. Tweety was left behind, honking plaintively until one of us humans came to the rescue and opened the gate.

We liked to help him, and knew the ducks were pleased as he was a willing babysitter, taking care of the ducklings while their parents went exploring.

As Tweety grew up, my uncle tried to introduce him to his own kind. He'd carry the goose down to the back paddock and do his best to show him that the other geese were just like him. Tweety didn't get the message, and the other geese didn't help. They totally ignored him, although his mother must have been among them. They didn't recognise each other as the same kind.

So Tweety remained a pet and a companion to the ducks. He lived to a good age and never strayed far from the house. After all, the first face he'd seen had been a human face. He knew what he wanted, and that was to continue with the life he knew. Humans and ducks were his chosen companions.

It seems that nurture was stronger than nature, so maybe what he teaches us is that one answer doesn't suit everyone.

Author: Patricia Reesby
No country specified.
True story: Yes
Rating: 20 paws up
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