Miracle had spent all night alone in her cage through the rain. The roof over the cage kept some of the rain out. The little hamster hut over the hot rock kept her cotton rag dry. When she heard the other ducks come to bathe, she called out to them to come rescue her. Over and over, she chirped a call. She really wanted to be with them. Miracle could hear her mother's voice. But they left without her, stuck in her little cage. By dawn, she began calling for someone to let her out.
Finally, the human came and opened the door. Usually, the human would pick Miracle up, but today, the door was flung open. At first, Miracle just hurried to the far corner of the nursery fold and called out for her mother. After a while, she wandered over to the pool to have a drink. The water had the delightful taste of a light touch of duck poop. She hopped up the ramp and jumped in. That's what began for Miracle the most wonderful day of her life.
It lightly rained all day. Ducks love rain. Between the warm showers were sunny skies. Miracle swam most of the day in the pool, sometimes bathing, sometimes preening, sometimes shooting rapidly below the surface, sometimes just lolling around. In between, she sunned herself on a cinder block feeling satisfied and sleepy. She spent the whole day in the warm sun and delightful rain.
Late in the afternoon, Miracle woke up from a nap mighty hungry. Her scratch bowl was gone! The last time she saw it was in the terrarium in the kitchen. She walked over to the porch by the door and started calling for the human to bring her scratch bowl. Instead of bringing the bowl, the human came to get Miracle. Something inside her was terrified of the monstrous human, and she escaped! She really wanted the mighty hand to pick her up but she couldn't control herself. She ran into her cage and cowered behind the hamster hut. Cornered, Miracle was captured by the mighty hand.
The hand placed her in the terrarium in the kitchen, where she indeed found her bowl. Boy! Was she hungry! She gorged herself on grain and sips of water until she slept quietly all through the human's wellness dinner and presentation. Miracle felt lonely when she woke. She tried to stand up in the terrarium, but it seemed to have shrunk. She needed to crouch her head down a little in order not to hit the ceiling screen. She could hear the humans talking somewhere else. So she made a fuss until someone came. The human wrapped Miracle in a cotton flannel rag and carried her out to another room where humans were sitting on a long chair covered with cotton cloth. She squirmed around in her flannel swaddling. This place looked interesting and she wanted to explore. The hand spread out the cotton flannel on the cushion and let Miracle out on the couch. She may be the first duck to sit on a living room couch.
Finally it was time for bed. The human carried Miracle out to her cage with the hot rock covered with cotton cloth inside a hamster hut. She had had a long, marvelous day, and was weary and ready to sleep. It had certainly been the most wonderful day of her life.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Miracle's adventure with a gaggle of little humans
Miracle is three weeks old and double in size. He likes to sit on the hot rock in his cage. The human put a cotton rag over the rock to make it more comfortable. Yes, Miracle's life has grown extraordinarily comfortable for a duck.
After sleeping in the cage all night on the hot rock, enclosed with cardboard to discourage drafts, Miracle wakes up every morning very cold. He starts to call for help, but no one comes. He calls louder and louder until the human comes out in bathrobe and slippers, and opens the cage door. Miracle is ambivalent about the monstrous human. As frightening as is her size and species, he considers that she still hasn't eaten me. In fact, she is kind of nice to me. I really want her to pick me up but she is so scary! Miracle hovers in the far corner as the giant arm and hand get closer to grab him. At the last minute, he bolts trying to escape the grasp. The hand shoots out to subdue and grasp little Miracle, and he is caught at last.
Chirping with fear, Miracle tries to escape, but the strong hands are already restraining his tiny wings in cotton rag swaddling cloths. Wrapped like a newborn, the human stuffs Miracle into her shirt. He has grown accustomed to the sound of her heartbeat and the rise and fall of her chest. It is comforting and warm to squeeze up into her sleeve or into the side of her neck. The heavy pulsing of her giant blood vessel lulls Miracle to sleep. He feels safe in her clothes.
Every day, the giant human fills a shiny white porcelain basin from a silvery spigot with warm water for Miracle's bath. This is his favorite time of day. The human tosses torn up green leaves into the water. Miracle eats them like a child eating Halloween Candy. When his sides are ready to burst, Miracle starts his bath.
The bath always begins with a head dunk followed by a splash. Dunk, splash, dunk. splash, dunk. splash. Then balance on one foot while the other vigorously scratches the oil glands on the sides of Miracle's face. Another dunk and rub, rub, rub the oil all over the feathers. Dunk, splash, scratch, dunk, splash and rub, over and over, left and right, back and breast, neck and butt. After every part has been oiled, it is time to preen the feathers. But Miracle hardly has any feathers. Save for the few tiny feathers sprouts protruding from his tail, he is covered over with yellow fuzzy down. Feathers or down, they all get the oil treatment and preening. After the bath, the human wraps Miracle in a clean, cotton cloth, and stuffs him back into her shirt.
One day, the human took Miracle into a giant humming thing and we went far away. Miracle was stuffed into a sock so that only his head could be seen. The human went walking around a place with lots of smaller humans, who all made sounds when they saw Miracle. They said, "Aw-w-w-w" and wanted to pet him. All the kindergarten children sat calmly along the wall in the hallway and petted his head, one by one. Although it was really scary to be around all those humans, Miracle felt safe in the hands of the usual human, the one that puts him in her chest.
Every time Miracle felt like pooping, he would squirm around and make a fuss. The human would put him down into a spigot place, and he would let it all out. There were often cups and bowls filled with water for a little drink. Then the human would make the silvery spigot release water, and wash all the baby duck poop down the drain. Miracle never messed his comfy cotton cloths or the cloths that the human wore.
After several hours, Miracle was exhausted. There was no grain to eat at this place. Miracle got to taste some lovely sweet fruits, but didn't want to eat much of them. With all the little humans petting him, and the absence of food, Miracle couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. He lay his head down and fell asleep. The human put him on her chest inside her shirt, and he fell into a deep sleep. The next thing he knew, he was home and being expelled from the sock into his nice cage. What an adventure!
After sleeping in the cage all night on the hot rock, enclosed with cardboard to discourage drafts, Miracle wakes up every morning very cold. He starts to call for help, but no one comes. He calls louder and louder until the human comes out in bathrobe and slippers, and opens the cage door. Miracle is ambivalent about the monstrous human. As frightening as is her size and species, he considers that she still hasn't eaten me. In fact, she is kind of nice to me. I really want her to pick me up but she is so scary! Miracle hovers in the far corner as the giant arm and hand get closer to grab him. At the last minute, he bolts trying to escape the grasp. The hand shoots out to subdue and grasp little Miracle, and he is caught at last.
Chirping with fear, Miracle tries to escape, but the strong hands are already restraining his tiny wings in cotton rag swaddling cloths. Wrapped like a newborn, the human stuffs Miracle into her shirt. He has grown accustomed to the sound of her heartbeat and the rise and fall of her chest. It is comforting and warm to squeeze up into her sleeve or into the side of her neck. The heavy pulsing of her giant blood vessel lulls Miracle to sleep. He feels safe in her clothes.
Every day, the giant human fills a shiny white porcelain basin from a silvery spigot with warm water for Miracle's bath. This is his favorite time of day. The human tosses torn up green leaves into the water. Miracle eats them like a child eating Halloween Candy. When his sides are ready to burst, Miracle starts his bath.
The bath always begins with a head dunk followed by a splash. Dunk, splash, dunk. splash, dunk. splash. Then balance on one foot while the other vigorously scratches the oil glands on the sides of Miracle's face. Another dunk and rub, rub, rub the oil all over the feathers. Dunk, splash, scratch, dunk, splash and rub, over and over, left and right, back and breast, neck and butt. After every part has been oiled, it is time to preen the feathers. But Miracle hardly has any feathers. Save for the few tiny feathers sprouts protruding from his tail, he is covered over with yellow fuzzy down. Feathers or down, they all get the oil treatment and preening. After the bath, the human wraps Miracle in a clean, cotton cloth, and stuffs him back into her shirt.
One day, the human took Miracle into a giant humming thing and we went far away. Miracle was stuffed into a sock so that only his head could be seen. The human went walking around a place with lots of smaller humans, who all made sounds when they saw Miracle. They said, "Aw-w-w-w" and wanted to pet him. All the kindergarten children sat calmly along the wall in the hallway and petted his head, one by one. Although it was really scary to be around all those humans, Miracle felt safe in the hands of the usual human, the one that puts him in her chest.
Every time Miracle felt like pooping, he would squirm around and make a fuss. The human would put him down into a spigot place, and he would let it all out. There were often cups and bowls filled with water for a little drink. Then the human would make the silvery spigot release water, and wash all the baby duck poop down the drain. Miracle never messed his comfy cotton cloths or the cloths that the human wore.
After several hours, Miracle was exhausted. There was no grain to eat at this place. Miracle got to taste some lovely sweet fruits, but didn't want to eat much of them. With all the little humans petting him, and the absence of food, Miracle couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. He lay his head down and fell asleep. The human put him on her chest inside her shirt, and he fell into a deep sleep. The next thing he knew, he was home and being expelled from the sock into his nice cage. What an adventure!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Miracle's unfortunate accident and resuscitation
Unfortunately, it turned out that L'il Survivor was quacking out the death knell of Whitey, whose carcass was found picked clean by a predator. The human set out a Hav-a-Heart trap to catch the lethal offender. Soon L'il Survivor fully fletched her wings and flew away with her daddy, Mr. Alpha Interloper.
Meanwhile, TanBrow appeared after a long disappearance quacking up a storm in the front garden. The human rose to see what all the commotion was about and saw TanBrow proudly proclaiming the birth of her seven new ducklings. All were fuzzy yellow except one which was black. It wasn't long before a scrawny calico cat ate one of the ducklings. And then there were six.
The human caught four ducklings and put them in a cage with fresh fodder, a bowl of water and another of baby scratch. Two ducklings were too fast and ran through the fence onto the next block. By the time the human returned from searching the next block and the adjoining empty field, the ducklings had made their way back to the nest. With the help of a young friend, the last two were caught and placed safely into the cage with their siblings.
The human wanted to catch TanBrow and keep her with her babies. But TanBrow had other plans. She had become a master of escape, which attests to her survival to this day. TanBrow can either fly over low fences, lift the poultry netting up and slip under it, throw her weight against the fence until the staples fall out, our leap onto the top and crush the fencing until it is low enough to fly over. She can squeeze through larger holes in the fence and remember exactly where the larger holes are located. When all else fails, she can lay low in silence, and camouflage herself into the underbrush. TanBrow held escape as a higher priority than mothering her baby ducklings.
Every morning, the human let the ducklings out of the cage to peck and scratch in the nursery fold. The human build a ramp of stone and mud up to the bank of the pond, and kept the pond filled to the top to facilitate the ducklings' exit. The six siblings all rushed in a crowd this way and that, chirping now for their mother, and now for for some juicy insects. Every day they seemed to grow ten percent bigger. There was no specific leader of the group. If one turned to go another way, they all turned to go with him. They cuddled together for warmth and companionship. Sometimes they even walked over each other at rest. They had a good life. The only thing lacking was the attention of their mother.
The seasons were changing and hot weather turned rapidly into cold. The human put an electrically warmed rock into their cage and closed the cage in at night with cardboard and empty feed bags. The ducklings really liked the warm rock. That corner soon became the most frequented part of the cage. Every night when the human drove them all back into the cage, they complied happily to go back to the warm rock.
About a week after their birth, the human left to go to a meeting. The ducklings all decided to go for a swim. The water was a lot colder than they had expected. The cold water robbed them of their energy. They were unable to leap our of the water onto the bank. They chirped frantically for help but no one came, not their mother nor any human. One by one, they gave up the ghost, legs blue, body temperature down, too cold to breathe.
The human came home from the meeting to see lifeless ducklings floating in the pool. She ran for rags and lifted the six freezing ducklings out of the icy water to dry them off. She began CPR on the ducklings, quickly changing wet rags to dry ones and placing the swaddled ducklings on the warm rock. One seemed to move and look at the human.. This one was wrapped and placed inside the human's clothing right over her heart. The human felt this one making tiny movements in her clothes as she pumped away on the chests of the other five ducklings blowing little puffs of air into their nostrils. Again and again the human changed their damp rags and continued chest percussion. Their limp bodies and half-closed eyes never moved again. The human was mortified.
The one in her chest was starting to quietly chirp. It was so weak, it was unable to stand up. After a while in her shirt, and another while on the hot rock, the one survivor could barely hold up its head. After some intensive care, the little yellow duckling was able to wiggle out of the swaddling cloths and stand up and chirp. Considering the miracle of its resuscitation, this duck got named, Miracle.
Meanwhile, TanBrow appeared after a long disappearance quacking up a storm in the front garden. The human rose to see what all the commotion was about and saw TanBrow proudly proclaiming the birth of her seven new ducklings. All were fuzzy yellow except one which was black. It wasn't long before a scrawny calico cat ate one of the ducklings. And then there were six.
The human caught four ducklings and put them in a cage with fresh fodder, a bowl of water and another of baby scratch. Two ducklings were too fast and ran through the fence onto the next block. By the time the human returned from searching the next block and the adjoining empty field, the ducklings had made their way back to the nest. With the help of a young friend, the last two were caught and placed safely into the cage with their siblings.
The human wanted to catch TanBrow and keep her with her babies. But TanBrow had other plans. She had become a master of escape, which attests to her survival to this day. TanBrow can either fly over low fences, lift the poultry netting up and slip under it, throw her weight against the fence until the staples fall out, our leap onto the top and crush the fencing until it is low enough to fly over. She can squeeze through larger holes in the fence and remember exactly where the larger holes are located. When all else fails, she can lay low in silence, and camouflage herself into the underbrush. TanBrow held escape as a higher priority than mothering her baby ducklings.
Every morning, the human let the ducklings out of the cage to peck and scratch in the nursery fold. The human build a ramp of stone and mud up to the bank of the pond, and kept the pond filled to the top to facilitate the ducklings' exit. The six siblings all rushed in a crowd this way and that, chirping now for their mother, and now for for some juicy insects. Every day they seemed to grow ten percent bigger. There was no specific leader of the group. If one turned to go another way, they all turned to go with him. They cuddled together for warmth and companionship. Sometimes they even walked over each other at rest. They had a good life. The only thing lacking was the attention of their mother.
The seasons were changing and hot weather turned rapidly into cold. The human put an electrically warmed rock into their cage and closed the cage in at night with cardboard and empty feed bags. The ducklings really liked the warm rock. That corner soon became the most frequented part of the cage. Every night when the human drove them all back into the cage, they complied happily to go back to the warm rock.
About a week after their birth, the human left to go to a meeting. The ducklings all decided to go for a swim. The water was a lot colder than they had expected. The cold water robbed them of their energy. They were unable to leap our of the water onto the bank. They chirped frantically for help but no one came, not their mother nor any human. One by one, they gave up the ghost, legs blue, body temperature down, too cold to breathe.
The human came home from the meeting to see lifeless ducklings floating in the pool. She ran for rags and lifted the six freezing ducklings out of the icy water to dry them off. She began CPR on the ducklings, quickly changing wet rags to dry ones and placing the swaddled ducklings on the warm rock. One seemed to move and look at the human.. This one was wrapped and placed inside the human's clothing right over her heart. The human felt this one making tiny movements in her clothes as she pumped away on the chests of the other five ducklings blowing little puffs of air into their nostrils. Again and again the human changed their damp rags and continued chest percussion. Their limp bodies and half-closed eyes never moved again. The human was mortified.
The one in her chest was starting to quietly chirp. It was so weak, it was unable to stand up. After a while in her shirt, and another while on the hot rock, the one survivor could barely hold up its head. After some intensive care, the little yellow duckling was able to wiggle out of the swaddling cloths and stand up and chirp. Considering the miracle of its resuscitation, this duck got named, Miracle.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
The Ducklings Grow Fast
The downy little brown ducklings grew longer and taller. By 4 weeks old, they began to grow beautiful, shiny feathers. The three male chicks, Dooghie, Danny and Drake, grew metallic dark green feathers on their heads. A funny white ring around their necks separated the green neck feathers from the purplish-brown chest feathers. The four female ducklings were spotted white and buff-color, dull compared to their brothers’ shimmering plumage. Ava, Ella, Ana and Ariel, had stripes across their eyes as if they were wearing makeup. The chicks had grown so big, they were almost as tall as their mom. Even as big as they had all grown, they still chirped tiny little chirps, and their silly little wing sprouts still had no feathers.
Drake was becoming a big bully. He was the swiftest of all the ducklings to find worms and bugs which made him grow bigger faster. Now that he was the biggest of the clutch, he really knew how to throw his weight around! He pushed the other ducklings away from their worms and quarreled with them over who gets to eat it. Daily, Quackers had to break up fights between Drake and the four girls. Ariel was the most defiant against her bully brother. She didn’t like being pushed around by a bully, even if it was her brother. She liked Dooghie much better. Dooghie peacefully snuffled for worms with the flock without stealing everyone elses food.
Drake got bossier and bossier. In a few more weeks, the ducklings were almost as big as their mother. The feathers on their wings grew as if overnight, and their little chirps were breaking into moderate quacks. Drake even tried to boss his mom around. Boy! Did she give him a scolding!!! She was still bigger than her growing son, and she was going to make sure that he knew it! She nipped his heels and shoulder and quacked out a warning. Drake was put in his place, but not for long. Drake felt squeezed by the loveley garden. It had a lot of nice snails and cracked corn, but felt too small for an ambitious young duck. Drake had a feeling there was more to see in the world than some kindly humans, a big house and bug-infested garden. He dreamed to someday see the world. He kept his secret longings to himself.
Drake was becoming a big bully. He was the swiftest of all the ducklings to find worms and bugs which made him grow bigger faster. Now that he was the biggest of the clutch, he really knew how to throw his weight around! He pushed the other ducklings away from their worms and quarreled with them over who gets to eat it. Daily, Quackers had to break up fights between Drake and the four girls. Ariel was the most defiant against her bully brother. She didn’t like being pushed around by a bully, even if it was her brother. She liked Dooghie much better. Dooghie peacefully snuffled for worms with the flock without stealing everyone elses food.
Drake got bossier and bossier. In a few more weeks, the ducklings were almost as big as their mother. The feathers on their wings grew as if overnight, and their little chirps were breaking into moderate quacks. Drake even tried to boss his mom around. Boy! Did she give him a scolding!!! She was still bigger than her growing son, and she was going to make sure that he knew it! She nipped his heels and shoulder and quacked out a warning. Drake was put in his place, but not for long. Drake felt squeezed by the loveley garden. It had a lot of nice snails and cracked corn, but felt too small for an ambitious young duck. Drake had a feeling there was more to see in the world than some kindly humans, a big house and bug-infested garden. He dreamed to someday see the world. He kept his secret longings to himself.
Quackers Demonstrates Duck Decorum
Since Quackers was the first thing the ducklings saw when they chipped themselves out of their eggs, they were convinced that she was their mother. They had no other mother, and Quackers was a proud and dedicated mother to them. In single file, they followed their adopted mother across the grass, through a thicket of flowers and down a short terrace to the moist mulch field below. Quackers showed them how to sort through the mulch with their beaks for worms and bugs. She used her wide beak like a shovel. Sometimes her beak got piled high with dirt and mulch with mud smeared all over her face. Quackers lovingly demonstrated to her chicks how you could smell the bugs when you got close. She showed them how to gobble up and swallow the worms and pill bugs, and they followed her example. What fun it was to be snuffling around in a big crowd of kindred spirits scavenging for juicy morsels to eat!
The next day, two of the eight chicks in the clutch disappeared. Some children in the neighborhood found one of the chicks waddling alone down the alleyway behind the garden fence. Apparently, the chicks had found a hole under the back fence and had slipped out onto the urban alleyway where danger lurked in every nook and cranny. The children returned the one chick to the garden. Quackers had been searching frantically for her little son and was amazingly relieved to get him back under her wing. The other chick was never again found. The kind woman found the little hole under the fence and filled it up with heavy rocks.
Each night at dusk, Quackers returned to the wire cage to retire for the night. Her straw nest was cushioned with the soft, fluffy down that she plucked from below her own feathers in order to make a squashy, warm bed for her baby ducks. One by one, the ducklings would follow her into the comfortable nest within the wire cage and find a place to rest under Quackers’ strong wings. Quackers would stretch her legs lifting her large body up to accommodate spaces for her progeny. When the chicks were all settled into the nest, she would hunker down right onto their heads and fluff up her feathers to keep them warm. Each night, they slept securely huddled together after the kindly woman came to set the hook in the door latch to protect the ducks through another night.
Up until now, Quackers had been alone a long time with no one to talk to. Although the ducklings could only chirp teeny baby language, Quackers was overjoyed to have company and some other ducks to chat with. She felt very important that the chicks followed her every move, and completely obeyed her when she instructed them. Days and weeks passed as the ducklings learned all they needed to know from their mother, and they rapidly grew.
The next day, two of the eight chicks in the clutch disappeared. Some children in the neighborhood found one of the chicks waddling alone down the alleyway behind the garden fence. Apparently, the chicks had found a hole under the back fence and had slipped out onto the urban alleyway where danger lurked in every nook and cranny. The children returned the one chick to the garden. Quackers had been searching frantically for her little son and was amazingly relieved to get him back under her wing. The other chick was never again found. The kind woman found the little hole under the fence and filled it up with heavy rocks.
Each night at dusk, Quackers returned to the wire cage to retire for the night. Her straw nest was cushioned with the soft, fluffy down that she plucked from below her own feathers in order to make a squashy, warm bed for her baby ducks. One by one, the ducklings would follow her into the comfortable nest within the wire cage and find a place to rest under Quackers’ strong wings. Quackers would stretch her legs lifting her large body up to accommodate spaces for her progeny. When the chicks were all settled into the nest, she would hunker down right onto their heads and fluff up her feathers to keep them warm. Each night, they slept securely huddled together after the kindly woman came to set the hook in the door latch to protect the ducks through another night.
Up until now, Quackers had been alone a long time with no one to talk to. Although the ducklings could only chirp teeny baby language, Quackers was overjoyed to have company and some other ducks to chat with. She felt very important that the chicks followed her every move, and completely obeyed her when she instructed them. Days and weeks passed as the ducklings learned all they needed to know from their mother, and they rapidly grew.
Quackers Teaches the Ducklings to Swim
The little boy had long ago outgrown his green turtle sand box. So the kindly woman removed all the sand and filled it with water for Quackers to take her daily bath. It was much easier for Quackers to hop into the turtle sandbox than the tall, claw-foot bathtub.
Quackers got up from her nest and led her noisy little chicks to the water to teach them to swim. As was her habit every day for many months, she leapt onto the side of the green plastic turtle and waddled into the cool, refreshing water. But her chicks could not leap like she did. They were too small. In a cacophony of panic-stricken chirping, they tried and tried, but could not leap high enough to get in the water.
The kindly woman heard the terrible sound of the frightened little chicks and came running, thinking that it might be another opossum. When she saw the desperate little chicks leaping and failing to scale the green plastic wall, she knew just what to do. The woman built two little ramps of stone and earth right up to the edge of the turtle. Then she placed each chick on one of the ramps so they could learn how to get up to the water's edge.
Very shortly, the clutch of chicks was happily swimming around like experts, even though it was their first time ever in the water. They followed behind the proudest mother of all, imitating her every move. Quackers swam to the left. And the chicks swam to the left. Quackers swam to the right. And the chicks swam to the right. Quackers briefly dunked her head and shoulders under the water, and they all dunked their little heads and shoulders under the water. Quackers churned the water with her majestic wing feathers. But the chicks had no wing feathers. So they spread open their tiny little, downy wing sprouts, and flapped them as hard as they could. No water churned. Having finished their baths, they all took a long drink. Then Quackers left the water and walked into the garden. One by one, the downy little chicks leapt from the water onto the green, plastic embankment and tumbled and stumbled over the side into the garden.
Quackers got up from her nest and led her noisy little chicks to the water to teach them to swim. As was her habit every day for many months, she leapt onto the side of the green plastic turtle and waddled into the cool, refreshing water. But her chicks could not leap like she did. They were too small. In a cacophony of panic-stricken chirping, they tried and tried, but could not leap high enough to get in the water.
The kindly woman heard the terrible sound of the frightened little chicks and came running, thinking that it might be another opossum. When she saw the desperate little chicks leaping and failing to scale the green plastic wall, she knew just what to do. The woman built two little ramps of stone and earth right up to the edge of the turtle. Then she placed each chick on one of the ramps so they could learn how to get up to the water's edge.
Very shortly, the clutch of chicks was happily swimming around like experts, even though it was their first time ever in the water. They followed behind the proudest mother of all, imitating her every move. Quackers swam to the left. And the chicks swam to the left. Quackers swam to the right. And the chicks swam to the right. Quackers briefly dunked her head and shoulders under the water, and they all dunked their little heads and shoulders under the water. Quackers churned the water with her majestic wing feathers. But the chicks had no wing feathers. So they spread open their tiny little, downy wing sprouts, and flapped them as hard as they could. No water churned. Having finished their baths, they all took a long drink. Then Quackers left the water and walked into the garden. One by one, the downy little chicks leapt from the water onto the green, plastic embankment and tumbled and stumbled over the side into the garden.
Quackers Hatches a Clutch of Ducklings
After the incident with the opossum, the kindly woman put a big cage in the garden with a swinging door. The door had a hook on it to lock it up. Inside it, she placed nice, clean straw, and used some boards to make a roof. The woman moved Quackers’ nest into the cage. Each night, the woman would lock Quackers into the cage. Each morning, the woman would open the door wide so that Quackers was free to roam. Quackers felt grateful for a safe place to sleep at night. She gladly rearranged her nest to her own satisfaction inside that cage, and continued sitting on her eggs.
One day, Quackers felt a strange movement under her belly. She rose up to take a peek. A tiny little beak tipped with an egg tooth had chipped its way through a crack in one egg. Quackers licked the tiny beak and sat back down again. She could feel the little infant chick slowly chipping its way out of the egg. It was an exhausting task for the chick. After a while, the other eggs began to crack. By mid afternoon, eight baby duck chicks had freed themselves from their eggs.
At first the babies were smoky black and all wet. Quackers removed the broken egg shards from her nest and licked each baby clean as best she could. Before long, Quackers was sitting on a nest full of fuzzy charcoal gray chicks chirping up a racket. How proud she was of her adorable family. She didn’t care that her Pekin feathers were pure white and her chicks were a different color. They were hers! Her dream had come true. Life was good!
One day, Quackers felt a strange movement under her belly. She rose up to take a peek. A tiny little beak tipped with an egg tooth had chipped its way through a crack in one egg. Quackers licked the tiny beak and sat back down again. She could feel the little infant chick slowly chipping its way out of the egg. It was an exhausting task for the chick. After a while, the other eggs began to crack. By mid afternoon, eight baby duck chicks had freed themselves from their eggs.
At first the babies were smoky black and all wet. Quackers removed the broken egg shards from her nest and licked each baby clean as best she could. Before long, Quackers was sitting on a nest full of fuzzy charcoal gray chicks chirping up a racket. How proud she was of her adorable family. She didn’t care that her Pekin feathers were pure white and her chicks were a different color. They were hers! Her dream had come true. Life was good!
Quackers Fights the Opossum
As spring heated up into summer, Quackers felt more and more the maternal urge. She felt like she wasn't a real female without hatching a clutch of chicks. So she sat on her nest day and night barely eating or bathing. When the people approached her to collect eggs, she would fluff up her feathers bobbing her neck up and down. I will not let you take my eggs, she hissed. She was ready to fight to protect her unborn children!
And fight she did! Early one morning, a large, gray, spikey thing with a long, pointed snout and a tail like a singed serpent came stalking into the garden. The pointed snout bared a mouth full of sharp, jagged teeth and growled. Quackers hissed a warning but the sharp teeth got closer and closer. As fast as lightening, Quackers shot out her neck and bit the thing on the shoulder. But the teeth opened wide and pounced on her, ripping open the top of her wing. Quackers leapt away to save her own life and watched the opossum break open every last egg and lick the shells clean. What a sad day it was for Quackers. She was too scared to go near her nest that day. Yet, the next day she took up her vigil sitting on her empty nest as if by sitting there, new eggs would magically appear.
The kindly woman noticed Quackers' maternal urge and grieved for her loss. The woman got some fertile duck eggs from a school farm and placed them in an incubator. The incubator had a constant machine hum and the eggs needed to be moistened and turned several times a day. A week passed and Quackers continued to sit day and night on her empty nest. The woman realized that Quackers could do a much better job at turning the eggs, and keeping them warm and moist. So she kept careful watch on Quackers, waiting for her to leave her empty nest. After many hours of dedicated sitting, Quackers got up for a brief break. The woman acted quickly. She removed all the eggs from the incubator and carried them out to the garden. She didn’t want Quackers to reject them, so she rubbed a bit of Quackers’ poop on each one. She placed the eggs in Quackers’ nest and lightly covered them with some leaves.
When Quackers returned to her nest, she pushed away the leaves to find a clutch of warm eggs. She looked them over, licking them and carefully rolling each one around. When they were all arranged to her satisfaction, she gladly sat down upon them and began the important work of sitting on her nest. She could feel the tiny beat of their hearts under her warm belly. Oh, how happy she felt to be sitting on a clutch of eggs! Like a miracle, she thought, my dream has come true.
And fight she did! Early one morning, a large, gray, spikey thing with a long, pointed snout and a tail like a singed serpent came stalking into the garden. The pointed snout bared a mouth full of sharp, jagged teeth and growled. Quackers hissed a warning but the sharp teeth got closer and closer. As fast as lightening, Quackers shot out her neck and bit the thing on the shoulder. But the teeth opened wide and pounced on her, ripping open the top of her wing. Quackers leapt away to save her own life and watched the opossum break open every last egg and lick the shells clean. What a sad day it was for Quackers. She was too scared to go near her nest that day. Yet, the next day she took up her vigil sitting on her empty nest as if by sitting there, new eggs would magically appear.
The kindly woman noticed Quackers' maternal urge and grieved for her loss. The woman got some fertile duck eggs from a school farm and placed them in an incubator. The incubator had a constant machine hum and the eggs needed to be moistened and turned several times a day. A week passed and Quackers continued to sit day and night on her empty nest. The woman realized that Quackers could do a much better job at turning the eggs, and keeping them warm and moist. So she kept careful watch on Quackers, waiting for her to leave her empty nest. After many hours of dedicated sitting, Quackers got up for a brief break. The woman acted quickly. She removed all the eggs from the incubator and carried them out to the garden. She didn’t want Quackers to reject them, so she rubbed a bit of Quackers’ poop on each one. She placed the eggs in Quackers’ nest and lightly covered them with some leaves.
When Quackers returned to her nest, she pushed away the leaves to find a clutch of warm eggs. She looked them over, licking them and carefully rolling each one around. When they were all arranged to her satisfaction, she gladly sat down upon them and began the important work of sitting on her nest. She could feel the tiny beat of their hearts under her warm belly. Oh, how happy she felt to be sitting on a clutch of eggs! Like a miracle, she thought, my dream has come true.
Quackers Lays Eggs in her Nest
Quackers laid eight eggs before the people found her nest hidden behind the wall of ivy. The kindly woman and the small boy stole all her eggs away. They robbed the cradle of her unborn children! Obviously this place wasn't as safe as she had thought.
She needed to find a better place. She searched around the front of the whole giant building and found a lonely pathway on the other side. There, Quackers found a thicket of wide leaves. This little thicket looked like a safe enough place to build a nest. She began gathering twigs and chips from the mulch under the bushes. Again she arranged them in a nice circle around herself until she had built a cozy nest. She carefully covered it with dried leaves so no one would ever know it was there. She decided to never be seen during daylight near her nest in order to never give the people a clue of its location.
It was fourteen days before the people found the nest. It was actually the gentle man of the house who found it while gardening in that vicinity one day. Fourteen eggs lay in the nest. The kindly woman and small boy took a dozen eggs from her nest. They also added a plastic play egg to the remaining two.
Cradle robbers! And they must take me for a total fool. I know this toy egg isn't real. I know its not one of my eggs. As long as they left me a couple of eggs, though, I hope someday I'll get some chicks.
She needed to find a better place. She searched around the front of the whole giant building and found a lonely pathway on the other side. There, Quackers found a thicket of wide leaves. This little thicket looked like a safe enough place to build a nest. She began gathering twigs and chips from the mulch under the bushes. Again she arranged them in a nice circle around herself until she had built a cozy nest. She carefully covered it with dried leaves so no one would ever know it was there. She decided to never be seen during daylight near her nest in order to never give the people a clue of its location.
It was fourteen days before the people found the nest. It was actually the gentle man of the house who found it while gardening in that vicinity one day. Fourteen eggs lay in the nest. The kindly woman and small boy took a dozen eggs from her nest. They also added a plastic play egg to the remaining two.
Cradle robbers! And they must take me for a total fool. I know this toy egg isn't real. I know its not one of my eggs. As long as they left me a couple of eggs, though, I hope someday I'll get some chicks.
Quackers Discovers Kitty Kibble
When Quackers woke up from her nap, she decided to make the place a bit more homey. She arranged a little bowl shape of twigs and leaves right around herself under the ivy. Satisfied with her work, she carefully covered it over with dried ivy leaves. Then she went to search for some nice juicy bugs.
There were lots of delicious earthworms in the mulch. She loved pill bugs and earwigs, too. There seemed no end to the number and variety of juicy bugs to eat. She even found serpentine little chameleons under the rocks. By the time she found the bowl of chicken scratch, she was too full to eat any. She made a mental note of its location so she could find it again if she got in the mood for dry, cracked corn.
As she explored the area, Quackers found a large opening at the end of the deck. Inside the opening was a smooth floor without any plants or bugs. She detected a very interesting smell, a bit like fish. Not far across the smooth floor was a bowl full of little brown crosses. It smelled so good, she thought she'd taste one or two. Wow! That tastes great!
When Milo saw Quackers eating from his bowl, he immediately took action. The hair on his arched back stood straight up and he bared his teeth and hissed a severe warning. Quackers was too busy gobbling the delicious kitty kibble to pay attention to the furry thing. Milo bared his razor sharp claws and struck! He was surprised that there was nothing under those feathers but more feathers! Quackers swung around and shot out her neck as fast as a bullet and nipped Milo's shoulder. Boy! Was he surprised! This ball of feathers was no easy opponent. She was bigger than him, had no flesh under the feathers to dig claws into, and could bite. Milo decided to let the feather ball eat his kibble. He sat under the kitchen table and licked his back while Quackers cleaned out his bowl.
There were lots of delicious earthworms in the mulch. She loved pill bugs and earwigs, too. There seemed no end to the number and variety of juicy bugs to eat. She even found serpentine little chameleons under the rocks. By the time she found the bowl of chicken scratch, she was too full to eat any. She made a mental note of its location so she could find it again if she got in the mood for dry, cracked corn.
As she explored the area, Quackers found a large opening at the end of the deck. Inside the opening was a smooth floor without any plants or bugs. She detected a very interesting smell, a bit like fish. Not far across the smooth floor was a bowl full of little brown crosses. It smelled so good, she thought she'd taste one or two. Wow! That tastes great!
When Milo saw Quackers eating from his bowl, he immediately took action. The hair on his arched back stood straight up and he bared his teeth and hissed a severe warning. Quackers was too busy gobbling the delicious kitty kibble to pay attention to the furry thing. Milo bared his razor sharp claws and struck! He was surprised that there was nothing under those feathers but more feathers! Quackers swung around and shot out her neck as fast as a bullet and nipped Milo's shoulder. Boy! Was he surprised! This ball of feathers was no easy opponent. She was bigger than him, had no flesh under the feathers to dig claws into, and could bite. Milo decided to let the feather ball eat his kibble. He sat under the kitchen table and licked his back while Quackers cleaned out his bowl.
Quackers Finds a New Home
The lady opened the gunnysack that Quackers was in and turned it upside down. Quackers tumbled out into a little garden full of flowers and trees. Her heart was beating so fast it seemed like it would jump out of her chest. There was a deck next to the garden. It looked like a good place to hide. Quackers scurried under the deck and hid in a far corner hoping she wouldn't be found.
Quackers hid under the deck all day and all night. Early the next morning, she got a familiar sensation: an overwhelming urge. Plop! She laid an egg right there on the gravel under the deck. The gravel really hurt her feet and she was longing for a drink.
In the dawn's early twilight, Quackers ventured out to explore the garden. She found a big claw foot bathtub full of water but the sides were very high. If she could fly it would be no problem to get up on those sides. She tried to jump but it was way too high. She backed off and took a running leap. Flapping her wings the best she could, she got over the sides and into the nice cool water. Ooooh! What a relief on her sore, aching feet.
And fish! Gold fish. She never ate one of them before but it looked like a tasty breakfast. But first she needed to perform her ritual bath. Over and over she dunked her head. She beat the water with her wings and preened her feathers until she was gleaming white. Then she looked around. Maybe this place isn't so bad after all. She wondered if there were any other ducks to play with. Feeling clean and refreshed, she leapt out of the old claw foot tub and began to explore.
She found a furry orange animal with no beak, four legs and a long, furry tail. "Are you a duck?" she quacked, but the animal didn't seem to hear her. She asked louder and louder but still no response. Maybe he didn't understand what she was saying. Milo, the cat, just sat down and began licking his shoulder pretending he didn't notice this new invader of his territory.
I wonder what I can scrounge around here to eat? she thought to herself. As she began exploring the lovely little garden, she discovered a huge cache of her favorite delectable treats. Snails! M-m-m-m! Yummy fat juicy delicious fresh snails. O-o-o-o-o did she eat! One after another. Five, ten, twenty, thirty. They were everywhere. She ate snails until she was so stuffed she could hardly move. She found a nice shady place behind a draping wall of ivy, and sat down for a nap. She was beginning to like this place.
Quackers hid under the deck all day and all night. Early the next morning, she got a familiar sensation: an overwhelming urge. Plop! She laid an egg right there on the gravel under the deck. The gravel really hurt her feet and she was longing for a drink.
In the dawn's early twilight, Quackers ventured out to explore the garden. She found a big claw foot bathtub full of water but the sides were very high. If she could fly it would be no problem to get up on those sides. She tried to jump but it was way too high. She backed off and took a running leap. Flapping her wings the best she could, she got over the sides and into the nice cool water. Ooooh! What a relief on her sore, aching feet.
And fish! Gold fish. She never ate one of them before but it looked like a tasty breakfast. But first she needed to perform her ritual bath. Over and over she dunked her head. She beat the water with her wings and preened her feathers until she was gleaming white. Then she looked around. Maybe this place isn't so bad after all. She wondered if there were any other ducks to play with. Feeling clean and refreshed, she leapt out of the old claw foot tub and began to explore.
She found a furry orange animal with no beak, four legs and a long, furry tail. "Are you a duck?" she quacked, but the animal didn't seem to hear her. She asked louder and louder but still no response. Maybe he didn't understand what she was saying. Milo, the cat, just sat down and began licking his shoulder pretending he didn't notice this new invader of his territory.
I wonder what I can scrounge around here to eat? she thought to herself. As she began exploring the lovely little garden, she discovered a huge cache of her favorite delectable treats. Snails! M-m-m-m! Yummy fat juicy delicious fresh snails. O-o-o-o-o did she eat! One after another. Five, ten, twenty, thirty. They were everywhere. She ate snails until she was so stuffed she could hardly move. She found a nice shady place behind a draping wall of ivy, and sat down for a nap. She was beginning to like this place.
Quackers is Rescued from Slaughter
The truck drove a long way to another town across several rivers and over many mountains far away from the farm where she was born. It was market day in Vallejo and the farmer was hoping to sell all his ducks. One by one, her brothers, sisters and cousins were sold. Nearly half the ducks were gone when a kindly lady asked the farmer if any of the ducks laid eggs. "Certainly," said the farmer. "All the females lay eggs."
The lady lived nearby the market and had an organic fruit and vegetable garden. For years, they had been battling with snails and slugs that ate all the newly sprouted seeds and freshly transplanted seedlings. Her family didn't want to put poison down to kill the snails. They had tried every method they heard about but nothing really helped. Then one day, on her little son's music tape, she heard a song about a duck that loved to eat snails. It gave her an idea.
The kindly lady pointed to Quackers and said, "I'll take that one."
The farmer grabbed Quackers by her shoulders and stuffed her into a gunnysack. She tried to bite the farmer but failed. She was terrified.
"And what do I feed the duck?" asked the lady.
"Ordinary chicken scratch." said the farmer. "This will last you a few days." And he gave her a little box of some cracked corn to start off with.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
L'il Survivor Braves The Giant Human
L'il Survivor was quacking up a storm all morning. The loud quacklarations got the human up early in the morning to find out what was wrong. L'il Survivor stood stretched up to her full height like a Runner Duck, and approached the human, chest heaving each time she took a breath for the next series of loud quacks. None of the other ducks were around.
The human wondered if a raccoon had attacked again, and went looking for dead bodies. Although Uncle Ralph's two brothers and Tuxedo are all missing, there were no dead bodies today, either in the fold area nor next door. The human did discover one of the Muscovy sisters sitting on a late season nest hidden in a thicket of ivy. Now that one of the young drakes had moved next door, they were making one last effort this year to make progeny. Mr. Alpha Interloper also migrated next door, so this nest might bear late season mixed species ducklings for the Muscovy sisters. They set all their last hopes on this clutch of eggs. Satisfied that there was no trouble from raccoons, the human returned inside the house. L'il Survivor continued quacking loudly at the foot of the stairs.
The human again went out and marveled at L'il Survivor's courage. L'il Survivor had so much chutspa that the human was quite sure she would turn out to be a drake. The human remembered how she had evaded the head-squeezing killer by disappearing under the murky pond water, and how hard it was to catch her when she was just a wee duckling. L'il Survivor strutted around at Mr. Interloper's side for a while as his favorite, and sometimes even led the whole flock. She also mastered a lot of respect and care from the members of the flock. L'il Survivor overcame her fear and walked right in front of the human, eye to eye, and loudly announced her issues. When the human entered the duck fold, L'il Survivor didn't run away like most other ducks do, but stood her ground. That's why the human thought she would become a drake. But all this loud commotion make L'il Survivor sound like a female.
Normally, ducks have yellow bills and drakes have greenish bills. L'il Survivor's bill is black. Normally female ducks make a big fuss quacking loudly, while drakes sound like they are murmuring. The human always gets the impression that the ducks are dissatisfied wives nagging and ragging while drakes placate them murmuring, "Yes dear, you are right dear, anything you say, dear...." But today L'il Survivor sounded like a complaining wife, not a murmuring drake. Her feathers, although nearly all black, are dull and boring, like female ducks tend to be. Therefore, the human strongly suspects that the one survivor of the 11 July ducklings may be female.
On the second round of investigation, the human found ample drinking water and grain in the feed trough. Perhaps she was complaining that the pond was too dirty. So the human drained the pond and refilled it with fresh water. Still the loud brouhaha persisted.
On the third investigation, the human thought L'il Survivor might be ill. Cringing in a corner, L'il Survivor allowed the human to pick her up without a struggle. The human inspected her all over for wounds but found none. Her feet didn't appear injured or swollen. Her flight feathers were just starting to grow in, and she had a beautiful mandala of brown and black feathers on her chest. L'il Survivor lay supine on the human's lap without complaint as the human did a careful inspection. Then the human clutched L'il Survivor to her chest to share heartbeat and breathing, and determine if she might have a fever. L'il Survivor's heart rate and breathing slowed down while the two beings from different chordate classes remained quietly in repose. No, the human concluded, L'il Survivor was not ill.
It was especially odd that the rest of the flock was nowhere to be seen. Usually, they surround L'il Survivor in order to protect her. But here she was, remaining in the nursery fold alone quacking up an unrelenting pandemonium. The cacophony lasted two days but the cause remained a mystery. By the third day, things were back to normal.
The human wondered if a raccoon had attacked again, and went looking for dead bodies. Although Uncle Ralph's two brothers and Tuxedo are all missing, there were no dead bodies today, either in the fold area nor next door. The human did discover one of the Muscovy sisters sitting on a late season nest hidden in a thicket of ivy. Now that one of the young drakes had moved next door, they were making one last effort this year to make progeny. Mr. Alpha Interloper also migrated next door, so this nest might bear late season mixed species ducklings for the Muscovy sisters. They set all their last hopes on this clutch of eggs. Satisfied that there was no trouble from raccoons, the human returned inside the house. L'il Survivor continued quacking loudly at the foot of the stairs.
The human again went out and marveled at L'il Survivor's courage. L'il Survivor had so much chutspa that the human was quite sure she would turn out to be a drake. The human remembered how she had evaded the head-squeezing killer by disappearing under the murky pond water, and how hard it was to catch her when she was just a wee duckling. L'il Survivor strutted around at Mr. Interloper's side for a while as his favorite, and sometimes even led the whole flock. She also mastered a lot of respect and care from the members of the flock. L'il Survivor overcame her fear and walked right in front of the human, eye to eye, and loudly announced her issues. When the human entered the duck fold, L'il Survivor didn't run away like most other ducks do, but stood her ground. That's why the human thought she would become a drake. But all this loud commotion make L'il Survivor sound like a female.
Normally, ducks have yellow bills and drakes have greenish bills. L'il Survivor's bill is black. Normally female ducks make a big fuss quacking loudly, while drakes sound like they are murmuring. The human always gets the impression that the ducks are dissatisfied wives nagging and ragging while drakes placate them murmuring, "Yes dear, you are right dear, anything you say, dear...." But today L'il Survivor sounded like a complaining wife, not a murmuring drake. Her feathers, although nearly all black, are dull and boring, like female ducks tend to be. Therefore, the human strongly suspects that the one survivor of the 11 July ducklings may be female.
On the second round of investigation, the human found ample drinking water and grain in the feed trough. Perhaps she was complaining that the pond was too dirty. So the human drained the pond and refilled it with fresh water. Still the loud brouhaha persisted.
On the third investigation, the human thought L'il Survivor might be ill. Cringing in a corner, L'il Survivor allowed the human to pick her up without a struggle. The human inspected her all over for wounds but found none. Her feet didn't appear injured or swollen. Her flight feathers were just starting to grow in, and she had a beautiful mandala of brown and black feathers on her chest. L'il Survivor lay supine on the human's lap without complaint as the human did a careful inspection. Then the human clutched L'il Survivor to her chest to share heartbeat and breathing, and determine if she might have a fever. L'il Survivor's heart rate and breathing slowed down while the two beings from different chordate classes remained quietly in repose. No, the human concluded, L'il Survivor was not ill.
It was especially odd that the rest of the flock was nowhere to be seen. Usually, they surround L'il Survivor in order to protect her. But here she was, remaining in the nursery fold alone quacking up an unrelenting pandemonium. The cacophony lasted two days but the cause remained a mystery. By the third day, things were back to normal.
Friday, July 3, 2009
TanBrow is a Good Mother
TanBrow had a twin sister named WhiteBrow. They were the only females in a clutch of 6 ducklings that came to live with us almost 2 years ago. Daisy Duck from next door helped raise TanBrow and her siblings until one tragic day when Daisy and WhiteBrow were chased by a raccoon into the street in a thick fog and got run over. The raccoon bit off all of TanBrow's tail feathers and she had a sore and wounded bum for a while. The wounds were cleaned and ointments applied, and she was feeling much better in a few days.
The fact remained that TanBrow was the only female left among her 2 brothers Lord Rouen and Alice, Mr. Alpha Interloper, and her other brother, Ralph. With amazing stamina, she survived and thrived as she accommodated the needs of the 3 randy drakes. Come April, she made a nest in the only safe place she knew, the cage where she spent nights as a small duckling. But her eggs kept being broken by the wire slats on the bottom of the cage when she sat on them. One day, the human did her a favor and carefully put a sheet of cardboard under her nest. TanBrow felt her nest had been violated, and abandoned it. She made a new nest in the ivy next door following the example of the neighbor Muscovy sisters.
TanBrow sat with dedication. Twelve hours a day she sat on those eggs, turning them and moistening them with saliva. Twice a day, she would cover her warm eggs with down and leaves and go dine and bathe. She could hear their tiny heartbeats under her breast. She could smell the good eggs from the bad. She would roll the bad eggs out of the nest. After more than a month of sitting on this new nest, 7 adorable ducklings hatched out.
How proud she was! None of the Muscovy sisters' nests hatched any ducklings. She was the only one with ducklings! All day Sunday, when her clutch was already a day old, she led the line of ducklings around to show them the lay of the land. She taught them to swim and how to peck and scratch. She showed them the place where the humans left grain meal. And she gathered them under her warm breast in the nest for naps. She was on top of the world; the envy of all the ducks.
On Monday, the human next door abducted her ducklings on the grounds of protecting them from the crows. TanBrow was beside herself with grief. She searched everywhere for them hoping they would magically reappear, but they didn't. She grieved for more than a week but learned a valuable lesson. With an indomitable spirit, she found a secret location in a thicket of ivy for a new nest. No one knew where she was, except Ralph, who came to visit now and then. She started laying eggs into her new nest while making herself very scarce. She only left the nest in the dead of the night, and only briefly. She learned a lot about nesting in this first year of motherhood.
Another month of dedicated sitting passed. Meanwhile, the abducted ducklings were finally returned to the flock but didn't get mothering from TanBrow who was busy gestating her next clutch of eggs. On the eve of the departure of the humans on vacation, TanBrow hatched eleven adorable baby ducklings. This time, she learned her lesson. She kept them carefully hidden in the ivy. But they had to eat, so she took them out when no humans were around. She taught them to peck and scratch, where the feed tray and water trough were located, and how to swim. The whole flock was proud of the baby ducklings and helped to protect them.
While on vacation, the duck pond was somewhat neglected. With so many ducks now bathing in the small pond, and with record breaking temperatures, the water level dropped. One day, the level was so low that the baby ducklings couldn't jump back on to the shore. They were stuck in the pond. They were in a panic and chirping frantically for help. A young child heard their cries and came to investigate. She saw their predicament and decided to intervene. She used the nearby net to scoop the tiny ducklings out of the water and squeezed each one of their heads until they died. She repeated the operation until all but one of the ducklings were dead. One tiny duckling kept holding his breath and diving under the murky surface eluding the net. He was the only survivor.
The next day, when a neighbor came by to do maintenance on the pond, he found the grizzly sight of ten baby ducklings with heads squashed floating in the water and one survivor swimming among the corpses. He freed the traumatized baby duckling and videotaped the carnage. The one remaining duckling is learning survival skills fast. TanBrow and the rest of the flock guard him carefully. They even spoil him. Even Mr. Alpha Interloper has taken the little survivor as his favorite even though the duckling is so small.
The surviving three daughters and three sons of TanBrow's originally abducted clutch are full grown, sleek and shining. The twin drakes are the spitting image of Mr. Alpha Interloper, but younger, bigger, and with striking sapphire wing stripes. The other drake favors the mother's side of the family. He has a splash of white down the front of his chest that makes him look like his jacket fell open to reveal his white shirt. The young drakes are learning survival skills from their father. They flank him at almost all times.
One daughter looks nearly identical with TanBrow cum the brow feathers. She is amazingly an homogenous chocolaty tan color, even on her face. Daughter Whitey favors her grandmother, the White Runner. Her face is a curious shade of dun and she has cloudy gray wings. Daughter Spot is the most curious of the clutch. She is a basic white with asymmetrical blotches of chocoalty tan and charcoal gray. The six youngsters don't yet know they can fly.
The fact remained that TanBrow was the only female left among her 2 brothers Lord Rouen and Alice, Mr. Alpha Interloper, and her other brother, Ralph. With amazing stamina, she survived and thrived as she accommodated the needs of the 3 randy drakes. Come April, she made a nest in the only safe place she knew, the cage where she spent nights as a small duckling. But her eggs kept being broken by the wire slats on the bottom of the cage when she sat on them. One day, the human did her a favor and carefully put a sheet of cardboard under her nest. TanBrow felt her nest had been violated, and abandoned it. She made a new nest in the ivy next door following the example of the neighbor Muscovy sisters.
TanBrow sat with dedication. Twelve hours a day she sat on those eggs, turning them and moistening them with saliva. Twice a day, she would cover her warm eggs with down and leaves and go dine and bathe. She could hear their tiny heartbeats under her breast. She could smell the good eggs from the bad. She would roll the bad eggs out of the nest. After more than a month of sitting on this new nest, 7 adorable ducklings hatched out.
How proud she was! None of the Muscovy sisters' nests hatched any ducklings. She was the only one with ducklings! All day Sunday, when her clutch was already a day old, she led the line of ducklings around to show them the lay of the land. She taught them to swim and how to peck and scratch. She showed them the place where the humans left grain meal. And she gathered them under her warm breast in the nest for naps. She was on top of the world; the envy of all the ducks.
On Monday, the human next door abducted her ducklings on the grounds of protecting them from the crows. TanBrow was beside herself with grief. She searched everywhere for them hoping they would magically reappear, but they didn't. She grieved for more than a week but learned a valuable lesson. With an indomitable spirit, she found a secret location in a thicket of ivy for a new nest. No one knew where she was, except Ralph, who came to visit now and then. She started laying eggs into her new nest while making herself very scarce. She only left the nest in the dead of the night, and only briefly. She learned a lot about nesting in this first year of motherhood.
Another month of dedicated sitting passed. Meanwhile, the abducted ducklings were finally returned to the flock but didn't get mothering from TanBrow who was busy gestating her next clutch of eggs. On the eve of the departure of the humans on vacation, TanBrow hatched eleven adorable baby ducklings. This time, she learned her lesson. She kept them carefully hidden in the ivy. But they had to eat, so she took them out when no humans were around. She taught them to peck and scratch, where the feed tray and water trough were located, and how to swim. The whole flock was proud of the baby ducklings and helped to protect them.
While on vacation, the duck pond was somewhat neglected. With so many ducks now bathing in the small pond, and with record breaking temperatures, the water level dropped. One day, the level was so low that the baby ducklings couldn't jump back on to the shore. They were stuck in the pond. They were in a panic and chirping frantically for help. A young child heard their cries and came to investigate. She saw their predicament and decided to intervene. She used the nearby net to scoop the tiny ducklings out of the water and squeezed each one of their heads until they died. She repeated the operation until all but one of the ducklings were dead. One tiny duckling kept holding his breath and diving under the murky surface eluding the net. He was the only survivor.
The next day, when a neighbor came by to do maintenance on the pond, he found the grizzly sight of ten baby ducklings with heads squashed floating in the water and one survivor swimming among the corpses. He freed the traumatized baby duckling and videotaped the carnage. The one remaining duckling is learning survival skills fast. TanBrow and the rest of the flock guard him carefully. They even spoil him. Even Mr. Alpha Interloper has taken the little survivor as his favorite even though the duckling is so small.
The surviving three daughters and three sons of TanBrow's originally abducted clutch are full grown, sleek and shining. The twin drakes are the spitting image of Mr. Alpha Interloper, but younger, bigger, and with striking sapphire wing stripes. The other drake favors the mother's side of the family. He has a splash of white down the front of his chest that makes him look like his jacket fell open to reveal his white shirt. The young drakes are learning survival skills from their father. They flank him at almost all times.
One daughter looks nearly identical with TanBrow cum the brow feathers. She is amazingly an homogenous chocolaty tan color, even on her face. Daughter Whitey favors her grandmother, the White Runner. Her face is a curious shade of dun and she has cloudy gray wings. Daughter Spot is the most curious of the clutch. She is a basic white with asymmetrical blotches of chocoalty tan and charcoal gray. The six youngsters don't yet know they can fly.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Ralph the Duck
Only 4 ducks survived from the clutch of ducklings last year. Lord Rouen stands tall and tough with the shimmering royal blue tips to his flight feathers. TanBrow, the single female, with her missing tail feathers just beginning to grow back in. And the twins, Alice and Ralph. Alice had the biggest white ring around his neck, and my sister asked if I could name that one after her. Alas, Ralph has no curly tail feather, and the feathers are always plucked from the back of his neck.
When the ducklings were still young, overseen by 2 borrowed females, a ferule, black Rouen flew in and took control of the flock. I named him, Mr. Alpha Interloper. They seemed to like him. They respected him and enjoyed obeying him. He trained them in defensive formations. Lord Rouen and Alice always followed him around like they were his right and left hand men. The three of them would strut about showing off their curly tail feather, the mark of a stud.
Mr. Interloper and the two young studs all had their way with TanBrow, feather-plucked tail and all. She took it like a trouper, survived and thrived. But then, TanBrow accumulated enough eggs to compel her to sit on her nest, and began her dedicated vigil, keeping the eggs warm, licking them with saliva for moisture, and turning them over and over, while listening for tiny heartbeats. Some say that ducks can't be "potty trained," but a normal duck doesn't foul her nest.
The drakes got randy; you know how males can be! TanBrow was busy, so they took it out on Ralph. Brothers Alice and Lord Rouen chased him all over the property. They would catch him and have their way with him too, tearing out the feathers on the back of his neck when they clung on to control him. Ralph became an outcast. Humiliated. Alone.
He started getting chatty with the females, who were all sitting on their nests. Usually all the females lay their eggs in the same nest and one appointed female will sit on the whole lot. But all three of the Muscovy females next door each had a nest. So Ralph would go next door and help a couple of the Muscovy sisters sit on their nests.
Sometimes his randy brothers would come looking for Ralph. They would roust him out of a nest and have their way with him. They plucked out his curly tail feather. He hated the way they would humiliate him. Even his sister, TanBrow, would nip at him when he tried to cuddle up with her. At least the Muscovies were willing to cuddle with him and let him help keep their nests warm.
When the ducklings were still young, overseen by 2 borrowed females, a ferule, black Rouen flew in and took control of the flock. I named him, Mr. Alpha Interloper. They seemed to like him. They respected him and enjoyed obeying him. He trained them in defensive formations. Lord Rouen and Alice always followed him around like they were his right and left hand men. The three of them would strut about showing off their curly tail feather, the mark of a stud.
Mr. Interloper and the two young studs all had their way with TanBrow, feather-plucked tail and all. She took it like a trouper, survived and thrived. But then, TanBrow accumulated enough eggs to compel her to sit on her nest, and began her dedicated vigil, keeping the eggs warm, licking them with saliva for moisture, and turning them over and over, while listening for tiny heartbeats. Some say that ducks can't be "potty trained," but a normal duck doesn't foul her nest.
The drakes got randy; you know how males can be! TanBrow was busy, so they took it out on Ralph. Brothers Alice and Lord Rouen chased him all over the property. They would catch him and have their way with him too, tearing out the feathers on the back of his neck when they clung on to control him. Ralph became an outcast. Humiliated. Alone.
He started getting chatty with the females, who were all sitting on their nests. Usually all the females lay their eggs in the same nest and one appointed female will sit on the whole lot. But all three of the Muscovy females next door each had a nest. So Ralph would go next door and help a couple of the Muscovy sisters sit on their nests.
Sometimes his randy brothers would come looking for Ralph. They would roust him out of a nest and have their way with him. They plucked out his curly tail feather. He hated the way they would humiliate him. Even his sister, TanBrow, would nip at him when he tried to cuddle up with her. At least the Muscovies were willing to cuddle with him and let him help keep their nests warm.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)