Goose on the loose

In a V-shaped formation, they come at dawn, striking from above.

Lighting on Furman Lake, they terrorize small children bearing bread. They nip at sun-bathing coeds. Their loud honks and hissing war cries strike fear in all who venture near Furman's once tranquil lake.

And the droppings. Oh, the foul, smelly droppings. They cover the walkways and shoreline, daring all to tread in their messy wake.

Furman has been invaded - by Canadians. Geese, that is.

But fret not. Bruce Fox and David Manning, staunch warriors of Facilities Services, are on the case. As the sun breaks and the mist rises on the lake, Fox and Manning arrive in golf carts.

Bearing firearms, they are Furman's soldiers on the front lines, spearheading the university's defense. With orders from Col. Doug Lange, their mission is simple: to fend off the invaders. They take their posts, Fox on the dam, Manning on the enemy's flank. As the geese emerge from behind the Bell Tower, Furman's soldiers raise their shotguns and, in unison

. . . CRrrrraACK!!!

No need to worry. Their ammunition, known as "shell crackers," is harmless. But the shell crackers shake the lake to consciousness. And, at least initially, they do the trick. Honking and flapping wildly, the startled geese take to the air. The men reload, the shrill crack fills the air once more, and the flaxen-headed fowl disappear over the horizon.

"Well," laughs Fox, wiping his brow with a purple bandanna, "we won the battle today. But tomorrow, they'll be back."

When Canada geese (Branta canadenis) first visited Furman in the early 1980s, they were welcomed and celebrated. Oliver McMahan, then grounds director, fed the birds each day.

The geese continued to return to campus each year, and until recently there was little reason for concern. But suddenly, the number of geese became overwhelming. Fox says he counted more than 500 Canada geese on the lake this summer.

"We have just had a tremendous problem with them," he says. "Their droppings are all over the place. It became so bad that you couldn't find a place to put a blanket."

The geese, more aggressive than other waterfowl, have become bolder as they have settled in. They surrounded and terrified a 5-year-old boy trying to feed them bread. An elderly man slipped on geese droppings and cut his hand while trying to avoid the birds. And just last month, some of the geese - or maybe they were ganders - snapped at two sun-bathing coeds.

The students, Fox explains, didn't even have enough time to fasten their tops. "They just got up and got out of there."

Several weeks ago, Fox and Manning began firing off the shell crackers. Most of the geese fly away, but many return in a few days. (Incidentally, ducks, swans and other fowl born on the lake remain there throughout their life and cannot be frightened away.)

Next summer, Fox plans to call the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources, which will capture and relocate the birds. The DNR can corral the geese in June, when they molt (lose their feathers) and are unable to fly.

But all of this begs the question: Why are the birds drawn to Furman?

Is it our commitment to engaged learning?

Maybe it's the scenic campus, or the friendly Furman faculty, staff and students.

No one knows for sure.

But Fox has a theory: "People feed them."