I’m Turning You In

He didn’t look like a criminal. I knew his whereabouts, however, was important and needed to be reported to the proper authorities. He wasn’t even acting like a bad guy, yet, I knew it was my civic duty to report his location, even if I had to take time from my hectic schedule that included a nap and some catching up on that stack of magazines on the table.
He was hanging out with a bunch of his type, all wearing the same colors. They hadn’t spotted Susan and I as we used the car as a blind. Or, maybe they had spotted us and, because they’re such a rough bunch, ignored us knowing their superior numbers made it a certain victory for their side should we attempt anything funny—like a citizen’s arrest for example.
Susan lowered her window. Chilling wind and rain whipped her in the face. She raised her binocular and gave me the description. I took extensive notes on the back of a freebie parking pass from the Cleveland Museum of Natural History. “It’s white,” she said softly as she strained to see through the lashing drizzle, trying to read the numbers. “Okay, got it. It’s 2E1R, black letters arranged vertically.”
Who was 2E1R? This much we could discern: He was a Canada Goose, most likely from the Common population (of which there are at least six recognizable populations), and he was big. He looked to be the full 45 inches in length and his wingspan of 60 inches fit the pattern.
The white collar on his neck looked like a soda can. In fact, the first time I saw one of these tags on a goose, way back in the last century when I was a beginning birder, it was red and I thought it was a soda can.
So there he was, grazing with about 300 of his kind. His tag, or collar, attracted about as much attention as a tattoo on a human these days. The more I looked at the goose and thought about him carrying that tag for life, the more it did seem like a tattoo, only this marking has a purpose attached; it’s not a wannabe fashion statement.
He’s part of someone’s research project and needed to be reported. The way to do it, should you encounter a goose with a collar or any bird with a band on its leg, is to go to www.pwrc.usgs.gov/BBL/homepage/call800.cfm, the Web site of Patuxent Wildlife Research Center, where data is collected. If you leave your e-mail address they might get back to you with information about the bird you’ve seen. I’m hoping to learn more about 2E1R. If I do, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, feed the birds. It’s cold out there.
And as for you 2E1R, you’re now in the computer, buster, so just watch your step, or where others might step.