Judging from my duck, it's probably
a good thing I didn't have any kids. Apparently, I messed him up. Oh, he's okay
physically. It's his emotional state I've been worried about. He still doesn't comprehend
he's a duck.
Tyler is the duckling my wife and I
adopted recently and was the subject of my last column. I told of his trials of
being an only duck and how he imprinted on virtually every human he
encountered, before he seemed to find satisfaction with a family of bantam
chickens.
Shortly after that column was
published, it became evident the pen he
shared with his chicken friends was inadequate in size to deal with the daily
manure output of a duck. Although they all got along well, and Tyler especially
enjoyed romping with them, it was time for him to become a real duck.
I have had ducks most of my life and
they do great outdoors, winter or summer. Our ducks have always been
essentially free-roaming as they are difficult to contain, easily slipping
through our sheep panels and gates. That being the case, though, they don't
stray far from home. Except for a mother duck and her six babies, who we had
years ago, they do minimal damage to our yard. She and her little demons did, however,
leaving scattered mulch and my wife's
broken flowers in their wake. They soon found a nice, new home with a
pond.
All the other ducks we have known
have been much more mannerly, preferring to live and exist with the sheep. Nearly
every time the sheep are out on pasture, the ducks will be nearby. In fact, the two ducks we had before getting
Tyler have been quite adept at using this trick to avoid predation. Evidently,
staying close to the sheep makes them less likely to be targeted by a hawk or
fox.
As for special care, our ducks eat
spilled sheep feed, occasionally some corn I'll toss their way, and all the
bugs and worms they can find around the manure pile. Although we don't have a
pond, the ducks do enjoy various puddles and low-lying areas that retain water
after ample rains. They are also capable of climbing into the water troughs for
a swim, much to the dismay of the sheep. In actuality, it's a win-win for both.
The ducks get a bath, and the sheep get fresh, clean water. The same husbandry
practices hold true for our geese- we have a gaggle of seven.
The ducks and geese, while they live
side by side , have minimal social interaction. Once, a male duck did show
romantic intent toward a female goose, but that affair was quickly ended by her
other goose suitors. Since then, both species, for the most part, mind their
own business.
Thus, I was more than a little
surprised by the almost weird fascination the geese had with Tyler the first
time they saw him. I took the young lad on a stroll to the barnyard to
hopefully introduce him to the other ducks, when suddenly we were besieged by
seven wing-flapping " honkers" way too close for comfort. Tyler
stayed right behind me as we quickly "beat feet" back to the garage. They did this on two other
occasions, I guess before they concluded he was only a duck and worthy to be
ignored.
So did Tyler ever become a member of
the duck flock? In spite of an afternoon
spent with the other two ducks in a
small lambing pen, no bonding took place. There appeared to be no animosity
between them, but no friendship developed either. As soon as I let them loose
into the larger sheep pen, they went their separate ways.
Nonetheless, I don't want you to
think Tyler is a lonely, miserable duck, because he's not. He hangs out with
the sheep when they're in the barn, and when they go to pasture with the other
ducks, he stays behind with several new free-ranging chicken friends.
And just the other day, I witnessed Tyler actively
engaged in conversation with a rooster resting above him on a gate, with his
head held high talking "quack." That was the moment I finally felt
some peace regarding his unique
situation. I realized Tyler's identity issue wasn't his problem, it was mine.
He knows who he is. He simply isn't a duck.
By Dr. John H. Jones
By Dr. John H. Jones
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