Geese, Bullfrogs & What They Don’t Teach You in Property Management School

There are things you expect to deal with when you become a property manager.

Budgets. Contractors. Landscaping. Complaints. Meetings. Lots and lots of meetings.

And then there are geese.

And bullfrogs.

Apparently, somewhere along the way, wildlife management became part of my job description.

Let’s Start with My Nemesis: Geese

I have learned more about geese during my 42 years in property management than I would really like to admit.

Many of the associations I manage have drainage basins. Notice I said drainage basins—not ponds.

There is a difference.

Drainage basins serve a purpose. They were part of the project plans and approvals when the property was developed. They weren't installed as a pretty water feature for everyone to enjoy from their patio.

Try explaining that to homeowners.

Some people love the natural look, including the phragmites and vegetation surrounding the basin. Others want everything cut down because they would like a better view of “the pond.”

But I digress.

Because you know who doesn't care what we call it?

The geese.

They LOVE drainage basins.

Every spring, they migrate back to New York and bless us with their presence until fall.

And by “bless us,” I mean poop absolutely everywhere.

Geese are poop machines.

Besides looking awful, an excessive amount of goose droppings can create sanitation concerns, so managing the goose population around association property can become a legitimate maintenance issue.

Fortunately, we've found a wonderful contractor who uses trained dogs to encourage the geese to move along. She is also properly permitted to manage nests and eggs when appropriate.

And yes, this is another thing I never imagined knowing anything about.

Goose egg addling.

There are approved methods used to prevent eggs from hatching, including oiling. Wildlife regulations apply, so this isn't something you just wander outside and decide to do on your own.

Why manage the eggs?

Because Canada geese have a strong tendency to return to places where they've successfully nested and raised young. Let one little goose family become established and, before you know it, your drainage basin has become the hottest goose neighborhood in town.

Of course, you can do everything right on your own property...

…and then your neighbor can have a pond.

Which brings me to my house.

Yes, I Chase Geese in My Own Front Yard

I have worked from home since the pandemic, and my office window looks out over my front yard.

My neighbor across the street added a pond to his property.

Guess who loves it?

Yep.

My nemesis.

Every once in a while, the geese decide the accommodations across the street aren't enough and start making their way toward my property.

My husband knows exactly what is about to happen.

I spot them from my office window.

I fly down the stairs.

I slip on whatever shoes happen to be near the door.

And outside I go...

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

There I am, a grown woman standing in her front yard aggressively applauding a flock of geese.

The neighbors must think I've lost my mind.

But it works.

If they don't feel comfortable hanging around, they usually retreat toward the pond at the back of my neighbor's property.

And that's perfectly fine with me.

They can keep their little poop machines over there.

But Geese Aren't Everyone's Nemesis

Mine are geese.

Sam's are bullfrogs.

Sam is an elderly gentleman who lives in one of the homeowner associations I manage. His home is near a drainage basin where we already have goose-control services.

One day, Sam started complaining.

Not about the geese.

Not about the landscaping.

Not about the drainage basin.

The bullfrogs.

They were too loud.

Now, I happen to think the sound of bullfrogs near the water can be rather peaceful.

Sam did not share that opinion.

At all.

The sound that makes one person think of a peaceful summer evening apparently made poor Sam's skin crawl.

And there I was with a brand-new property-management problem I had never encountered before.

What exactly does one do about noisy bullfrogs?

There was certainly no chapter about this in the property management handbook.

I wasn't part of the eventual extraction team, and I never got all of the details—which may be for the best.

What I do know is that a very patient Good Samaritan spent some time near the basin, managed to catch those big, loud bullfrogs and relocated them somewhere else.

Hopefully somewhere far enough away that Sam couldn't hear them.

Problem solved.

At least until the next completely unexpected issue lands on my desk.

I've dealt with buildings, budgets, boards, contractors, homeowners, emergencies...

…and apparently wildlife relocation.

Geese are my nemesis.

Bullfrogs are Sam's.

Apparently, wildlife management is part of the job description, too.

Filed under: You Called Me About WHAT?!

And this is exactly why, after all these years, I still find myself saying:

You seriously cannot make this shit up.