The enemy is Canada Geese. Actually, they are not the enemy. Their mass quantity of slimy droppings are the enemy. Geese look so impressive, floating around on the lake. Then you hear them honk and you wish you hadn’t. Their gaggle of goslings look so cute bunched up and swimming between mom and dad. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Wow. Where are those hungry pike and snapping turtles anyway? OK, just kidding. So they swim along, heads and necks all bobbing in unison looking kind of goofy, kind of cute. They come ashore to eat grass. An adult (sometimes two) stands guard, eating a bit but mostly watching. Meanwhile, their rapidly growing offspring stuff their beaks so fast you have to kind of marvel. Then you remember picking up about 100 piles of goose dropping and you wonder why Bailey, the neighbor’s dog, is falling down on the job.

Headley is a gator head with sparkling jewel eyes that reflect sunlight. He is guaranteed to keep water fowl away. He bobs around in the waves, even squeaks occasionally as his styrofoam head scrapes the bungee cord. But, alas poor Headley, the gator who comes with an overpriced tag, doesn’t do a bit of good. Not a bit. Not even at first. You would think at least at first it would have worked. ¬†Almost the first night Headley was in the water, a pair of American Black Ducks decided to spend the night on the dock. I guess they wanted to keep him company and welcome the new guy to the neighborhood. Supposedly gators eat young water fowl, somewhere, and the breed memory will take over and your property will be fowl/foul free. Not so. Not in Michigan anyway. Canada Geese swim right by those sparkling jewel eyes on their way to breakfast on the lake house lawn. And lunch. Until I come running out with my broom.