When is a goose not a goose?

When it’s a Goosander.

Out walking, I checked my notifications and saw that my local hedgehog rescue had taken in an orphaned Goosander chick. Turns out these little guys need more specialist care then anywhere local could provide so they needed to be taken to Whitby Wildlife Sanctuary, 2 hours away.

So, me and the little chicky chick had a roadtrip. About half way there they stopped shuffling around and I got a bit worried, but on reaching Whitby I was relieved to see they’d simply pooped themselves out with all their shuffles. Phew.

Left in the capable hands of Whitby Wildlife, I thought in my wisdom I could pop into Whitby, park up and have a walk on the beach.

I hadn’t realised it was Goth Weekend, and it took me AGES to find a parking spot. Still, I did get my feet on the beach.