THE FALL AND RIZE OF

THE FALL AND RIZE OF
MR GRUMPY THE GANDER
A TRUEISH STORY

In this best of all possible worlds, deep in a wrinkle, in a crinkle, of the misty Mpumalanga highlands, lived Mr. Grumpy with his gaggle Dibbles, Puddle and Charley the younger. They lived on the farm Cosmos, swimming in the trout dams, eating sweet grasses and golden yellow corn with the chickens, led by that great warrior and lord of all he surveyed, Son of Gatsha.

All seemed perfect and as good as it gets, but Mr. grumpy was not satisfied.

Dibbles and Puddles, Mr. Grumpey’s wives, both produced large clutches of eggs each year and were completely and totally conscientious in lining their nests with soft feathers, sitting on them, keeping their eggs warm, but every year they lost all their goslings after they hatched, it was all very sad.
The truth be told, they were both just the worst mothers, though they tried hard, yet every year it was the same story, and none of Mr. Grumpies goslings lived to carry on the name of Grumpy.

One morning Mr. Grumpy was looking over the valley with his friend and companiero Son of Gatsha when Mr. Grumpy decided to ask for a little advice. He was very embarrassed to ask for help, as they were both seriously macho, and Son of Gatsha was a chicken to boot, so he shuffled around a bit, cleared his long throat and eventually blurted out, “Son of Gatsha, what shall I do about Mrs. Dibbles and Puddle?”

“ What, what do you mean?” the rather startled Gatsha clucked, for Mr. Grumpy was a taciturn fellow at the best of times, both being the strong silent type except when reminding the world just who was running the show.

“Well Gatsha old chap, its those geese of mine,” he mumbled, “ they are driving me to distraction with their useless mothering, you have got a large and growing flock, in the last couple of years you have doubled the size of your brood but I haven’t got one extra gosling in my gaggle,” sighed Mr. Grumpy.

Son of Gatsha was very pleased by this unexpected compliment. He gave a mighty crow of appreciation but was nonetheless aghast at what Mr. Grumpy was asking him. Though Gatsha only had a brain the size of a pea he knew that the answer was not one that a proud and macho gander would appreciate.

Son of Gatsha had known Mr. Grumpy all his life and held him in awe. Mr. Grumpy was a tremendous gander, Gray and white, very large, in fact huge, very fierce with haughty button blue eyes on either side of his head. No one messed with Mr. Grumpy the farmyard gander, so it was with caution that Gatsha made his suggestion.

“Mr. G” he began, trying a little intimacy to soften the blow, but the gleam in Grumpies eye gave him pause, so retreating he started again.

“Mr. Grumpy what you will have to do is bring the next clutch up yourself!”

There was a stunned silence between them as Mr. Grumpy gazed bleakly at Son of Gatsha first through his right eye and turning his head he contemplated Gatsha through the other just to be sure that Gatsha was serious.

“What me do the job of a goose???” he hissed.
“Err um yes” Son of Gatsha replied taking a few steps backward in case Mr. Grumpy took a peck at him, he wasn’t called Grumpy for nothing.

“There is no other way,” he continued from a safe distance, “some hens just aren’t mothers. It happens, usually another hen will take up the slack, but both your geese are useless, and that’s the truth”

“ Me be a goose? Have you lost the pea that you call a brain” he hissed, “I’m a gander, you stupid chook, I’m busy, busy, busy, all day. I have to keep control, I am in charge here, and I have to keep on top of things. I can’t do goose work. It’s humiliating, and what if the wild Egyptian geese find out, I will be a laughing stock, I won’t be able to keep my head up”

Although Gatsha had expected Grumpy to take umbrage at his advise, nonetheless Son of Gatsha who was a proud chicken was a bit taken aback by this fit of temper and stamped of in a huff.

*

“Err um yes” Son of Gatsha replied taking a few steps backward in case Mr. Grumpy took a peck at him, he wasn’t called Grumpy for nothing.

“There is no other way,” he continued from a safe distance, “some hens just aren’t mothers. It happens, usually another hen will take up the slack, but both your geese are useless, and that’s the truth”

“ Me be a goose? Have you lost the pea that you call a brain” he hissed, “I’m a gander, you stupid chook, I’m busy, busy, busy, all day. I have to keep control, I am in charge here, and I have to keep on top of things. I can’t do goose work. It’s humiliating, and what if the wild Egyptian geese find out, I will be a laughing stock, I won’t be able to keep my head up”

Although Gatsha had expected Grumpy to take umbrage at his advise, nonetheless Son of Gatsha who was a proud chicken was a bit taken aback by this fit of temper and stamped of in a huff.

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CHAPTER 2



A few weeks later sure enough, after the usual fuss and shouting, five beautiful goslings were born to Puddles. This time it seemed that all would be well. Puddles was all attention and devotion but after just 4 days Mr. Grumpy found one missing, lost in the night, who knows. Puddles just looked helpless, she had no idea how it had happened and Mr. Grumpy knew that he had to make a decision fast. Taking his pride in hand, he told Puddles to push off, which she was very relieved and happy to do leaving Mr. Grumpy alone with the goslings.

With his left eye, he glared down at them turning the other eye on them in preparation to telling them the rules he was just in time to catch one running to the left after a butterfly while the other disappeared in the other direction after a big blue dragon fly,and the other’s scattered in all directions, leaving Mr. Grumpy spluttering and flapping in consternation, not knowing which to go after first.

Mr. Grumpy was used to being obeyed, but these two didn’t know that, and life was far too interesting to remember anything for long.


They ran him ragged, keeping them in line and out of trouble. Just as he was having a snack he would have to drop everything to rescue one from the cat, or be interrupted from a snooze by the desperate peeps of the other with its foot stuck in a hole. There was just no peace. If he had been busy being boss of the gaggle, he was frantic as a mother.

Mr. Grumpy however was determined and persevered. Soon he learned that kindness worked better than squawking, hissing and pecking at the little ones. He loved it when they cuddled under his wings to sleep, in short Mr. Grumpy was becoming a nicer guy. Still grumpy, but nice, he even changed the goslings names from Muddle, Trouble, Strife and Idiot to Cuddle, Chuckle, Bubble and Fluff, much friendlier.

Soon enough they were following him around, growing their feathers and were declared by the whole farm to be charming and delightful goslings. Mr. Grumpy was a great mother and his goslings survived and prospered, it seemed that all was well.

CHAPTER 3

While Mr. Grumpy was looking after the goslings, he still managed to do most of his gander work, which was not easy, so it was understandable that Mr. Grumpy paid less attention to Puddles and Dibbles than before. Being chief gander is not all feathers and roses, you know. He had to know when to swim and when to snooze, when to get to Poppies house for mealie meal and when to just march around the farmhouse. All these important things and more kept a gander on his paddles.
The gaggles schedule was remorseless, so with all his extra duties he became off hand even rude to Dibbles and Pud. Being beautiful and vain they were very put out, which is where Charley the Younger saw his gap.
Charley the younger you recall lives with Mr. Grumpy and his wives. Charley was a handsome but dissolute pure white gander that hung around at the back of the gaggle with the girls enjoying the good life, with no responsibilities. As Mr. Grumpy was so preoccupied, Charlie’s flirting with the girls made an impression. He wasn’t bossy like Mr. Grumpy.


Puddles and Dibbles saw Charley in a new light. Charley gave them sweet tit bits. Charley listened to them and flattered them. He was graceful and charming, he laughed and played, he was really fun to be with and with bossy old Mr. Grumpy busy with the goslings they were having a good time.
Weeks went by Cuddle and Chuckles, Bubble and Fluff lost their fluff, grew feathers and became beautiful and graceful geese like their mother. They needed less and less attention and Mr. Grumpy decided to send them to the back of the line, being the youngest, and to sharpen up the gaggle’s act.

He realized that he had let things go. The Tigwan who is the king of the birds and also the rain bird and as such very important, had complained that his wives were eating grass that was to young, and were rude to his wife. The daily farm parade hadn’t been done nearly regularly enough; the chickens were getting very pushy at feeding time, sneaking corn from the gaggle. Crossbow the fat old staffy didn’t even get out of the way of the parade. All this and more was totally unacceptable to a perfectionist like Mr. Grumpy.



Mr. Grumpy ordered everybody into line, glaring balefully out of his left eye and right eye in turn; and proceeded to honk at them the entire gaggle act in no uncertain terms. Hissing and pecking them on the head, he went through all their various faults and failings in detail. He was determined to assert himself and get the gaggle in line.

Well you can just imagine their surprise and dismay at this return of bad old Mr. Grumpy. Everybody had become very used to a mellow Mr. Grumpy preoccupied with the goslings and had forgotten what a dictator Mr. Grumpy had been. When Mr. Grumpy turned to the subject of Puddles friendship with the Francolins, (noisy wild birds), he went to far.

“Oh I say, lay off, Mr. Grumpy,” interjected Charley the Younger, who had always loved Puddles and forgot himself in the heat of the moment. He was very scared of Mr. Grumpy.

“WHAT!” hissed Mr. Grumpy through his clenched beak, “ how dare you speak out of turn?”

“Yes lay off” piped Puddles made brave by Charlie’s defense of her, giving him a flirtatious glance.

Mr., Grumpy whipped his hand around, giving himself a nasty crick in the neck. He was stunned shocked and yes outraged, at her talking back to him.

“Lay off, lay off, lay off” squeaked the goslings, who although they had all their feathers, were still very foolish and goslingish and this was just a game to them.

Something came over Charley. The girls were looking at him in an adoring way; Mr. Grumpy didn’t look nearly so big and scary as he tried to out stare everyone at the same time



Before Charley really knew what he was doing he attacked Mr. Grumpy, jumping onto his back while his head was turned and pecked him hard on the head. Mr. Grumpy was shocked at this mutiny and when the rest of the gaggle joined in he was overwhelmed.

Desperately he tried to fight back. For all his faults Mr. Grumpy was a very brave gander but Charley was almost as big as him and with the help of all the others Mr. Grumpy had no chance. Charley realized that this was his oppertunity to take over as boss gander and really pilled into the fray tearing out Mr. Grumpies feathers and beating his wings in a huge display. Mr. Grumpy was defeated and retreated into the long meadow with the jeers and taunts of the whole gaggle ringing in his ears. Mr. Grumpy couldn’t believe what had happened and it was a sore and humiliated gander that hid in the reeds. Mr. Grumpy had no friends.


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CHAPTER 4

What a dark day this was for our hero. Toppled from his throne, Mr. Grumpy had never felt so low. How could they have turned on him? He had always looked after them, kept them safe and secure. He’d searched out the best places to eat and made sure that the geese were the top birds on Cosmos Farm. He’d done goose work for the good of the gaggle and here he was driven out.

Even after a few days had passed they still chased him away and turned their backs on him. None of them would talk to him and Mr. Charley; yes Mister Charley now if you please was forever pecking him and shoving him of the grain at feeding time.

The worst of it was at night when all the others were safe in the hock, he was forced to sleep alone outside in the yard.




Poor old Mr. Grumpy was miserable, frightened and alone. He didn’t feel big and strong. Every night he honked miserably at the moon. He thought that soon he would go the way of Cock of the North.

Cock of the north had been Lord of all he surveyed before Son of Gatsha. He had ruled the yard when Mr. Grumpy was just fluff on paddles, but he grew old, tired and sick and was usurped by Son of Gatsha. Soon after he had faded away and Mr. Grumpy thought that he would follow, but in the meantime he tagged along behind the gaggle and cried outside the hock at night.

Mr. Charley was now boss of the geese; he walked at the front and decided when, where and what they did.

Mr. Charley loved the attention that the whole gaggle lavished on him and he became very proud and haughty. He saw himself as the ruler and made sure that all knew it.



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CHAPTER 5

The rhythm of the farm settled down to the new status quo. The chickens did their rounds; Crossbow lay in the sun and made her tummy warm with Putcha the cat. Amos the man cut the grass and the guests at the lodge came and went while Mr. Grumpy sulked along behind the gaggle, which was a bit strange but we all soon got used to that.



Mr. Charley waddled along in front as proud as can be, but he did not really know where to go or what to do. Charley got confused about when the corn was to be scattered and when to snooze, when to swim in the house dam or when to sleep. There really was more to being head gander than he had realized and Charley, who was used to following Mr. Grumpy, was getting very confused and flustered. Not that he showed it, but everybody noticed that the gaggle was not as sharp as before. The truth be told Charley was too young and silly to be a head gander.

The parades around the farm now hardly ever happened and because Charley was in fact in a bit of a panic, he was no longer sweet and charming either. He pecked and beat up anybody that annoyed him and managed to humiliate the entire gaggle at one time or the other. Charley became grumpier than Mr. Grumpy had ever been.

Charley however, finally worked out a plan. He noticed that Mr. Grumpy went towards the next spot on the schedule automatically and if he kept his eye on him, hurried to get in front, he got most things right. This was harder to do than one would think. He never knew which way Mr. Grumpy would go and he often went one way and Mr. Grumpy the other leaving him stranded and looking silly. Things get confusing when the real leader is at the back. Charley was deeply regretting usurping Mr. Grumpy.

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CHAPTER 6

The first thing Mr. Grumpy noticed was unlike ‘Cock of the North’ he did not get sick. Sad and betrayed, but not sick or ill or even tired. In fact with all the rest he was getting at the back of the gaggle, he was actually getting fat! He felt as strong and healthy as he had ever been, better in fact.

One lovely sunny day followed another, Mr. grumpy found it harder and harder to stay sad. Staying sad is the hardest thing, especially with a beak full of the sweetest grass and a glorious sun rising over the dewy valley. With his new freedom from responsibility, he had more time to preen and primp his feathers; he looked sleeker and plumper than ever before.



The rest of the geese soon forgot that Mr. Grumpy was disgraced and usurped, so more and more they found themselves passing the time of day with him. It was useful to see what he was up to and eating, as he always seemed to be at the best places at the best times. He was so grateful for the smallest kindness and was now so considerate that it was a pleasure to be with him.

From his position at the back and with not some satisfaction Mr. Grumpy noted that the gaggles standing in the yard was not what it used to be when he was in charge.



Dibbles got her tail bitten by Crossbow the dog, considering that Crossbow was the most gentle of souls who was even intimidated by the Muscovite ducks, this was a disgrace, but Charley did nothing, he was a terrible coward, the only brave thing he had ever done was to stand up to Mr. Grumpy and that only in the heat of the moment, sort of by mistake.

Son of Gatsha had to take over the chairmanship of the farmyard council, and was losing his feathers from having to think all the time. Mr. Charley was always too busy with his own problems, so for the first time ever a goose wasn’t top bird. Mr. Grumpy mourned. This was all wrong!



By this time he was back in the hock at night with his gaggle. Geese more than most need to be close each other and do everything together, so Mr. Grumpy was very relieved to be tolerated again. Mr. Charley still persecuted him, he missed the attentions Dibbles and Puddles used to lavish on him as top gander, but he was more content than he had ever known.

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CHAPTER 7

Son of Gatsha however was not content, he was harassed and bothered. He was not used to being top bird, Lord of all he surveyed yes, indeed, but not the constant day-to-day problems that Mr. Grumpy used to handle with such ease. Geese are made to be top bird, chickens to be Lord of all they survey, that way everybody is happy.



Son of Gatsha like everybody else on the farm, was aware of the upside down situation with the gaggle of geese and he knew that if he wasn’t to lose all his feathers, he had to somehow get Mr. Grumpy back on his throne. He felt responsible. After all, it was his suggestion that had started the whole mess. He could see that Mr. Grumpy was not inclined to fight it out with Charley the Younger. Charley was a big gander and Gatsha could see that the Mr. Grumpy was quite happy.

Gazing despairingly at one of his hens being chased by a young cockerel called Dinner, and knowing that he was to busy with other things to do anything about it, he threw caution to the wind and preening his feathers to the max, he threw back his head and gave a mighty crow, a ruffle and a long wiggle that made every feather stand out in such glory that he shot his last remaining tail feather right out. This is the way a chicken thinks, having a brain the size of a pea this is the only way that they can think as everybody knows.

Son of Gatsha gave his all into this effort, sad as he was to lose that last tail feather, it was worth it, what his pea sized brain could not come up with, his feathers had they had solved up with a brilliant plan!

With his big idea tucked into his tiny brain, which took up nearly his whole brain, so much so that he could barely walk, he wobbled of to see Puddles and Dibbles and whispered into their ears. He drew Charley the Younger aside and even had a chat with the gooslings, after which with a sigh of relief he went straight to work giving Dinner, Lunch and Supper the other young cockerels, a good long chase and pulled all their tail feathers out. He wasn’t going to be the only cockerel with no tail feathers, and went to roost, a contented fowl, and Lord of all he surveyed.



Shortly after he had settled down warm and cozy among his hens, the geese came into the hock to settle down for the night. Silence descended, darkness fell, when from the back of the hock Chuckles and Cuddles honked together, “Why is Mr. Grumpy in here? He’s usurped”
“Yes, that’s true, get out,” hissed Charley as loudly as he could right in Mr. Grumpey’s ear.

Mr. Grumpy was already half asleep, he had been sleeping in the hock for ages and this came as a huge shock.

“Yes OUT, OUT, OUT,” shouted the whole gaggle and they all flapped their wings in his face.




Mr. Grumpy got a huge fright at this sudden commotion in the darkness, and being a brave gander, he attacked and pecked Charley on the head. Mr. Charley suddenly became Charley the Younger again and fell onto his back even though he was hardly pecked at all, screaming “OW OW that really hurts.”

“ I will not go out into the dark” honked Mr. Grumpy. He hated being alone outside.

“I will not go outside” he hissed, pulling some feathers out of Charlie’s head, but not with any real conviction.

“I won’t sleep alone” he mumbled.

“Yes, yes,” squeaked the whole gaggle. “We mean no no”

In all the flapping, it seemed to Mr. Grumpy that he had somehow swept the whole gaggle into a corner of the hock with Charley the Younger whimpering in front of them all.

He stepped back a pace and looked at them through his favorite left eye, quailing and cowering in a heap and realized how much he loved them and how badly he needed them to love him.

Cautiously the gooslings sidled over to him, followed by Puddle and Dibbles, who stroked his neck and cooed into his ear, “Oh Mr. Grumpy, you are top bird again.”


“No I’m not. I don’t want the job and what about him?” he grumbled, pointing his beak at Charley the Younger in a sort of half hearted peck.

“I’m beaten Mr. Grumpy, sir. O yes sir indeed well beaten sir,” Charley squeaked and cowered into the corner. “You are it,” he continued. “ That was a terrible battle, you won fair and square, besides which, and you did the job much better than I did.”



“Yes I suppose I did” replied Mr. Grumpy well pleased and giving a huge honk of triumph he took his old place in the hock.

At this point the chickens, dogs, cats in fact the whole farmyard had enough and shouted for them to pipe down and let them sleep. So they all settled down in their old familiar places for the best night’s sleep they had had for ages and ages glad that everything was back to normal.

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EPILOGUE

One misty morning deep in a crinkle in a wrinkle of the mighty Mpumalanga Highlands in valley of seven springs Mr. Grumpy was sharing a quiet moment with Son of Gatsha lord of all he surveyed, after a comfortable silence had passed as they watched the five new goslings playing around Mr. Grumpey’s legs Gatsha remarked, “Handsome new clutch of goslings Mr. Grumpy, Puddles and Dibbles are handling the farmyard council really well too.”

“Well thanks Gatsha,” Mr. Grumpy replied, “and by the way my first name is Jim.”
“Jim, indeed,” clucked Gatsha pleased and flattered with this intimacy.

“And sorry about your last tail feather,” Mr. Grumpy whispered in Gatsha’s ear as one left blue eye looked knowingly into Gatsha’s bright orange right eye.

If a large, a very large in fact an extremely large, gentle gander called Jim could have smiled, he would have, at this best of all possible worlds.



THE END