The Deal With Ducks
Ahh, ducks. I wanted ducks to work out SO bad. Late last winter I spent hours researching duck breeds and comparing this and that amongst them. I tried to find someone to split an order of ducks with since the minimum was a little more than I wanted, and being unsuccessful, I ordered the minimum of 15 ducks. All went well, until it didn’t, as things tend to do. All 15 ducks went out for the morning and simply never came back.
Ducks are rather clumsy, not much more than a walking target for any even semi-agile predator. So, I tried my luck again and ordered 15 MORE ducks. Rearing the ducks the second time went just as well as the first, initially, until one day something nosed the sliding coop door up in the middle of the night. I knew something wasn’t quite right away in the morning when I didn’t see my ducks moseying in a single file line to their swimming pool. Inside the coop, only four ducks remained, all four injured and bleeding. Three of the four were seemingly okay, but the fourth was a young hen who as a result of her injuries, couldn’t even hold her head up. I knew I would have to humanely put her down, but with two small children underfoot (technically one on my hip) I would have to wait until the baby went down for a nap. About an hour later, I saw the young hen outside with the other three ducks, headed towards their pool. Her head was still carried in such a fashion that she appeared to have no neck, but because she was eating, drinking, and swimming, I held off on her planned ending. The young hen continued to walk in this “no neck” sort of way and because of this, we affectionately named her “Shrugs” and I am happy to report that Shrugs eventually made a full recovery. And as luck would have it, a fifth duck returned home that night! Also as luck would have it, I now have three drakes and only two hens, so some decisions will have to be made come spring.
While I love chickens, ducks are much more my style. They do not kick up the mulched flower beds nor do they stand on the patio and poop just because they can. More often than not, they can be found basking in the sunshine or cooling off in the shade, head tucked in a wing, softly dozing. They’re not particularly affectionate but they’re also not shy, they come right up to the children but do not pester as a chicken might. They’re not nearly as flighty as a chicken, they just mind their business. While I don’t ever foresee a large flock of ducks, a few here and there complete the farm.