... And Now We Have a Duckling

Alex and I joke a lot about being the “Home for Unwanted Animals.” Our old dog was about to be put down when Alex stepped in. Our current dog was neglected and about to go on Craigslist when we got him. We had a snake given to us because the owner was going to drop him in the woods. My cat ran into my apartment one day and never left, and our other cats were going to be surrendered to a shelter at 15 years old.

I don’t know what it is about us – our compassion, caring, etc. – but the universe gives us animals that no one else wants. It’s both sad and amazing to know we can provide these babies a good rest of their lives even if the beginnings weren’t so great. I take great pride and comfort in this role we play.

But today … well, let’s file this under, “Couldn’t make it up if I tried.”

Alex is hanging out in his shed, working on what will in a few weeks be this awesome ape-handle bike with giant wheels, when he hears a “Cheep cheep cheep!” from behind him. He whirls around and sees a tiny, fuzzy something zoom past him and into the corner under the shovels. He cautiously investigates (“It could have been a rat, or a skunk – I didn’t know!”) and finds … a BABY DUCKLING.

He coos, scoops him up, and brings him to me – and we proceed to conduct a thorough search of the surrounding area for his family. He’s probably a few days old – barely the size of the chicks when we brought them home, so no momma duck would abandon him so young. But there’s no momma, and there are no other ducklings, and there’s no evidence of whatever made him flee into our shed. He’s completely alone and terrified. So, we do the only thing we know we can do: We put him in with the chicks in their coop, give him a bowl of water, and leave him to calm down.

Duckie, as I call him, runs around the coop squeaking like he’s on crack, freaking out the chicks who just want to give him a little peck to see what the hell is going on. Then, with his flappy little feet, he runs up the ramp into the roosting area and bunkers down with his little fuzzy beak in the corner. The poor thing is absolutely petrified and just wants to find his momma – but she’s not around!

I call my friend Heather, who is our expert on all things farm, and she says we did the right thing. The chicks and Duckie will naturally get along, and she has an added solution: Heather has ducks and chickens, too, but there is one duck who gets picked on by all the other ducks and thus lives in her barn in fear. Would we like to try to introduce him to the duckling and see if they bond?

So here we are. We now have a scared, infant duckling roosting with the chicks, and tomorrow we’re getting Uncle Donald (his new name) to add to the motley crew.

I’m just glad Duckie found us. He could’ve been running around and gotten hit by a car, or picked off by one of the many raptors circling our area, or just been alone and scared with no food or water. It’s not an ideal situation, but at least the little guy is safe, sound, and fed. If I thought I could find a momma duck with little ducklings in a nearby pond or something, I’d try to introduce him into that family, but for the moment I don’t know if that’s even possible.

For now, the plan is to give him an overnight to calm down and make friends with the chicks, then see if Uncle Donald is a good fit. I’ll be sure to keep you posted.