Sadness Report: Baby the Cygnet...

When I first started this Blog almost a full year ago, one of the first writing assignments or "Reports" as I like to call them, took me to the beautiful neighborhood of Mission Trace. There, I met our Mission Trace Correspondent Sid Seidenberger and fellow resident and official photographer, Al Mozisek. During my first visit to Mission Trace, I was introduced to Baby, a Black Australian Swan or Cygnet, who was not only abandoned by her swan parents, but put in many dangerous situations as a result of their disfavor. I wrote a several reports about Baby and her progress, and in the mean time, Eva and I developed a friendship with our Mission Trace cohorts.

Today, I received the word that poor Baby has perished. I spoke to both of my friends just moments ago, and frankly, I can't possibly describe the loss as well as they have in the following note which they graciously have allowed me to post.

BABY, THE BELOVED SWAN OF MISSION TRACE

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It is with deep regret and a very sad heart that we write this.

There are so many unfortunate circumstances that we face in each of our lives. We are all somehow humanly bonded by the shared experience of a devastating loss of a person or thing quite dear to us. We almost all know that emotional pain that we feel in our hearts, the kind that wrenches us internally.

As many of you also know, there is a strong, almost human, connection between people and their pets. Pets are lovable, pets are playfully entertaining, and pets give their love to us unconditionally. They do not care if we are overweight, or balding, or shabbily dressed, or even have morning breath. Pets love us because they feel the love that we give them. Pets sense this loving loyalty, and it makes them come to us or even behave when they’re naughty. It’s such an endearing, reciprocal feeling. That is the reward and pleasure of a pet.

About a year ago, the pair of Australian black swans in the lake here in Mission Trace hatched a clutch of eggs, but only three hatchlings managed to survive and were taken away to the country so this trio of cygnets could escape their death by predators. Ultimately, only one female cygnet endured, so she was eventually reunited with her parents a few months later here in the Mission Trace lake. Her parents, however, did not accept her; they rejected her and regarded her as an enemy. She was a total stranger to the very parents who produced her. What a sad homecoming!

The rejected one had been named “Baby” during her early days in the country, and on her second day after being returned to the lake here in our city subdivision, she sought refuge from her unloving, aggressive momma and daddy at the back steps to our townhouse.

Just like a squatter, Baby claimed the back of the house as her new-found territory, constantly remained there, and grew from a shaking, shivering, crumple-feathered grey cygnet into a magnificent, majestic black swan. Truly, the ugly duckling transformation took place outside our back windows practically right before our eyes.

Baby was nurtured, Baby was loved, and yes, Baby was held and petted as much as possible because, unlike her aggressive parents, she had been hand-raised and probably, as a veterinarian once told me, felt as if she were part human. In a word, Baby was docile. She wouldn’t even flinch if migratory ducks or other fowl came to eat out of her little “Baby” bowl of hen scratch. She was not a fighter.

Pretty Baby was, in fact, a pampered pet of a fowl.

Little did she know (nor did we before we became so attached to her!) that her existence would become like living at the luxurious Waldorf Astoria, with her daily chopped lettuce luncheons served shortly after her feasting on a hearty bowl offowl-fortifying barley and maize for breakfast.

Each afternoon, Baby was personally escorted to the Mission Trace lake for her leisurely afternoon swim and peaceful, soothing time basking in the sun. (Momma and Daddy took a nap in the afternoon, so this very conveniently permitted Baby to relish her swim time, much the same way as some people savor their television soaps every day after lunch.)

Baby had her routine, and we respected it and accommodated it as best we could.For the last three or four months, Baby had begun taking a nocturnal dip. She would love encircling the fountain in the lake, with her black plumage glistening like diamonds as she was drenched by the beaming moonlight and the gentle spray of the fountain.

Sometimes, when the grain and the lettuce we offered her left her longing for more, she’d sit in the lake chomping down algae with frequent beak dipping sips of water to wash it all down.

Times were available for Baby to enjoy life in the water even though she had to put up with the frustration of her mean, vicious parents. Baby always managed to escape them because she was younger, and she was faster on land than they were.

This past Monday night on St. Patrick’s Day, we looked at Baby taking her usual midnight meandering into the moonlit lake. Little did we know that her hours were numbered.

Tragically, during the night, Baby was dragged and savagely killed by what we assume were coyotes or perhaps raccoons. Beholding the sight of her ravaged, mangled body and the trail of her shiny black feathers she shed in her fight against her foes was a paralyzing discovery this morning. Why, oh why did it have to happen to Baby?

Maybe Baby’s docile nature was her ultimate downfall that probably led to her death. Baby was sweet and gentle, but sadly, in the harsh world of nature, sweet and gentle means vulnerable. That is just bitter and brutal reality of life in the animal kingdom.

For the past fourteen months, Baby brought us love, Baby brought Mission Trace new life to the lake, and quite certainly, Baby stole our hearts.

We truly are devastated by this loss, needless to say.

Who would ever have guessed that an orphaned cygnet would waddle in from the lake to become our cherished pet? I never in my life imagined holding and cuddling a black swan, much less a pet dog!
Australian black swans are by nature very aggressive and even dangerous. They have been known to break a man’s arm with their powerful wings.

But not Baby, not our dear Little Baby! Her untimely death has left us all broken-hearted.

May you rest in peace, Baby. We will all miss you. Never again will we be able to look at the lake without remembering Baby

Final Note

Baby was buried under a massive oak tree by which she strolled every day making her way to the water. She was laid to rest in one of her plastic swim tubs, which she had outgrown as she quickly matured. We somewhat likened it to a baby crib, a kind of water bed… or maybe her own personal pool, which we filled with fresh water each day. Her “coffin” is actually a storage bin …and the lid now respectfully covers her remains as she lies there eternally by the lake.

Mission Trace will be placing a final resting place marker over Baby’s grave. From our back windows, we will be able to see this spot to remember the joy Baby brought everyone in the short time she was here.

Al Mozisek

Sid Seidenberger

Baby

February 13, 2007 – March 16, 2008

Sid's Christmas Extravaganza: Enough Spirit for All of Us...

I shan't bore you with the unsavory details, but my wife has long considered me to be a Grinch when it comes to Christmas. I confess readily that, though I like the idea of giving gifts and certainly appreciate a stuffed stocking and Christmas dinner, I don't seem to share the same excitement that I did as a child. I do enjoy the watching The Movie every year, but suffice it to say, guilty as charged; I'm not a real Christamsy kinda guy.

But my friend Sid, known here as our Mission Trace Correspondent, and proud Papa of Baby, the Australian Swan, is totally into the Christmas spirit, so much so that my wife and I dropped in to inspect his hard work and creative touch in decorating for the season. First, I do get occasional e-mails asking about Baby, so here she is, all grown up. She is doing fine and Sid reports that since Baby's father has been "fixed" he is not as aggressive toward her. Everyone seems a bit happier in Mission Trace as a result. Onto the festive decorations. You have to appreciate anyone who has not one, but multiple Christmas trees, and places them throughout the home. I mean, I think my wife gets into it by going all out in our living room and dining room. Sid has his place decked out! I submit that anyone can run into Wal Mart and grab some festive decorations for the house and slap them on a coffee table; it takes a real artisan to design and hand craft the array of festive displays that Sid has produced. My wife was simply impressed with his skilled use of a glue gun and wired ribbons and of course the eye for different themes suitable for the style in the home. I enjoyed the display of ornaments and statues including a shelf full of Santa's of all design. One particular Santa is a clown helping a little girl decorate a tree. Very festive and in fact, a collector's item for sure. You can see the creative eye in fashioning his fireplace mantel with bulbs and such - we thought it had somewhat of a Russian flavor to it. Honestly, Sid has left no room in the home without at least some form of fun Christmas decor. In fact, even the restroom had a festive display - perfect for when you are standing there taking a pee. How Jolly is that? We had a great visit and in spite of all the Christmas cheer, I must tell you, there were no threats to bust into caroling. For that, I was glad.

Looking for fun? Consider a Play in San Marcos...

This is sort of a public service announcement for those of you seeking something entertaining to do this weekend...

My good friend Sid, our Mission Trace Correspondent and often caretaker of Baby the Swan, reports that his niece Lindsay is currently appearing in a stage production of Oscar Wilde's THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST at the Mainstage Theater at Texas State University.

Interested but not sure what it might be about? Well, according to the web page, "Oscar Wilde's comedic masterpiece satirizes English society in the late Victorian era. The plot follows the exploits of two wealthy young men who pretend their names are Ernest in order to impress their beloveds. One, Jack Worthing, is a foundling and cannot marry his love until he produces an acceptable parent. His future mother-in-law, Lady Bracknell, tells him, "To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness." Audiences have loved this play since it opened in 1895, and many critics consider it the wittiest play in the English language."

Unfortunately, my wife and I can't make it but in the event that you feel the need for a little comedy and/or culture, get up there and cheer young Lindsay on. And, if you see an Australian Black Swan wandering around in the parking lot, look for Sid!

Baby Update: Possible Cygnet Eviction

I received a rather unsettling e-mail from our Mission Trace Correspondent, Sid Seidenberger this afternoon. It seems that Baby, the Australian Black Swan who resides in the lake at Mission Trace may be in a little hot water.

According to Sid, he had been out of town and "Baby went to the next-door neighbor's patio and shit on their Terra Cotta tile. One thing led to another and the neighbor was forced to build a barricade to keep Baby from making defacatory deposits".

He says, "Next thing you know, their HOA Grounds Chair receives a bitchin' from the disgruntled neighbors and a call is made to a supposed "swan expert", who says that the parent swans (now nesting AGAIN with 5 eggs) will eventually kill baby."

Clearly unhappy about this, Sid continues, "Long story short, I must go before the Board on Thursday night and make an appeal to them. 80% of the board members HATE the swans. It looks as if Baby will be doin' her swan song and saying so-long because the Grounds Chair said, "It's the Board's decision".

I talked to Sid a short while ago and he tells me that he has been doing research and making calls to various vets and water fowl experts all day long, and sadly, there does seem to be some consensus that the situation is not good. It would be nice if some swan relief agency was available to take Baby in and get her relocated to a better environment.

Does anyone have any suggestions? Anyone know of any swan experts who might have an idea? My wife is calling a few folks who know something about bird sanctuary's etc., but if you have any words of wisdom or assistance, give me a quick e-mail or leave a comment here.

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A Cygnet Named Baby

Sid Seidenberger, our Mission Trace correspondent, enjoyed the pictures of my funny dogs Gracie & Panda and told me about an interesting pet he has adopted, named Baby. He referred to Baby as a Cygnet, and not being familiar with that particular nomenclature, I must confess that I had to do some quick Google action to find out just what sort of critter he had. I’ll spare you the details of my research, but if you find yourself in a Discovery Channel state of mind, you might start here.

Before I get to Baby though, I think it is fascinating how the small neighborhood of Mission Trace, like other older gated communities, seem to carve out a sanctuary of sorts for their residents, when just on the other side of the fence is all the hustle and bustle of a fast-paced and continuously growing and congested environment.

Like many of my fellow Silver Creek and Great Northwest neighbors who drive up Culebra Road every afternoon, I often wonder if all the traffic is worth it. So as I drove down Wurzbach and on Vance Jackson at the height of rush hour to get to Mission Trace, I had similar thoughts about the sense of living in such a congested area.

Those questions ceased as soon as the guard lifted the entry gate into Mission Trace. Surrounded by trees and walls that make the traffic on Vance Jackson disappear behind you, the small tree-lined lake to the right immediately catches your attention. The only distraction to the lake was a well-placed sign emphasizing the need to be cautious for the swans. As I drove in, I saw a duck casually sitting on a bench as though he was waiting for a bus or something.

The point is that just as I find the comfort of my home and my neighborhood to be worth the short drive up Culebra, I suspect the residents of Mission Trace soon forget about the bumper-to-bumper traffic navigated through to arrive in their little piece of heaven. And I’m willing to bet that wherever Baby’s parents came from to land in the small body of water in Mission Trace, they felt the flight was worth it. And that’s where Baby’s story begins.

I spoke with Sid and his friend Al, also a resident of Mission Trace, and they told me how the parents, Australian Black Swans had a small nest of babies, or cygnets as the young swans are called. The enemies of these young cygnets are turtles and hawks, both prevalent around the lake, and soon it became clear to residents of the area that the little babies would not survive.

Fearing for their safety, the property manager for the local HOA removed the cygnets from the predators around the lake when the Cop and Pen (the parents) could not protect them. Unfortunately, Baby’s two siblings did not survive.

Fast forward to a month or so ago and a now much larger but still immature Baby as she was named by the manager, was released to learn to live and enjoy the same peaceful solitude of the lake that human inhabitants of the area enjoy. But, Mother Nature, the prankster she can often be, gives the Australian Black Swan an apparent short memory. And without the standard baby-swan passport photo or the equivalent of those school year books that show your child growing from a toddler to an adult in 12 short years of public school, these poor swans had no idea who Baby was.

Worse, because some swans don’t feel at all icky about incest, and apparently others do, the parents took this new strange cygnet as a threat to the marriage. Sid reports that in one fowl exchange (sorry), Papa Swan “bit Baby's tail and shook her whole body like an old kitchen rug being shaken free of dust on the back porch. It scared the hell out of Baby...and me.”

So now, Baby has to be caged at night (conveniently beneath the picture window of Sid’s home, overlooking the lake), and she has to have water tubs from which to drink and slosh around in. Lettuce and seed come hand delivered at this point but I suspect she will learn to scrounge around the lake for vittles before too long.

What surprised me the most about meeting Baby was that she has taken to Sid’s voice and presence. When I asked if we could get close enough for a few happy-snaps, Sid simply wandered outside, called for her and picked her up as though she was a little puppy. When Al and I approached to get a better look, Baby tucked her beak in-between Sid’s protective arm and chest, though she looked up occasionally to see if we were still gawking at her. After a few nervous moments of introductions, Sid let Baby down and she wandered down toward the lake.

In addition to her estranged parents watching from a distance on the other side of the small lake, there was an egret not far from us contemplating his next move as occasional sprinkles of rain approached. Baby seemed fine dipping her feet into the water as long as we stood by, but I suspect she knew as well as Sid that once we retreated back to the house, the aggressive parents would not be nearly as standoffish.
Later, from the incredible view indoors looking out, Baby fled the pleasant water of the lake with her Springer-like parents in hot pursuit. Sid has a sense of Baby’s speed and was confident though visibly nervous about her ability to make it to the safety of her cage. Once on land and headed toward the house, the parents ceased the chase of the last of their offspring, with no idea on earth that only a season earlier, they had hatched the little cygnet.

In a few more months, Baby ought to make a pretty good centerpiece come Thanksgiving time. And with that, we were hopeful that Baby would survive this season, and the next.

Note: Thanks to Photographer Al for additional photos of Baby and her parents.