Today Squeaky went over the wall. I was washing dishes and I saw her sitting on the gate into the duck's area. She brazenly flew in and went into their pen, looking, I suppose, to lay an egg in there. The Terrorists were having none of it, however, and blocked her every move.
At dusk when I went to put the ducks away I half expected to find a Squeaky egg in there, but there was only a duck egg. As I stood from searching for and finding the pesky ovoid I banged the back of my head on the propped up doorway. What do you know! There were two eggs in the duck's pen after all: one duck egg and one goose egg.
Rubbing the aforementioned goose egg vigorously so as to confuse the pain receptors, I made my way to the chicken coop to shut their little door and found Squeaky's egg all alone in the corner.
I took my three eggs into the house. I washed and refrigerated two of them. I gingerly patted the third and made an internal application of Tylenol. I think I'll pass on any future goose eggs.