Last night, my not so graceful Border Collie, Mady, who I deeply believe has anxiety issues, and is a bit neurotic, knocked over the brooder. One duckling was huddled by a shoe, and the other seemed to have vanished. I panicked. I searched outside for about an hour, in the dark, and in the rain. Unfortunately, this duckling is mute, so there would be no way I could hear him peeping. Yes, I said mute. Strange, I know.
I finally gathered myself, and figured if he had any instinct at all, he would bunker down for the night. Finding a stray duckling on a farm, is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Almost literally.
I hoped that in the morning, when the rest of the birds were let out of the barn, he may show up. No such luck. I searched this afternoon. No duckling. I'd pretty much given up, when I was walking over by my clothes line, and I see a tiny duck head peek up from the grass by one of our outdoor chick brooders. Well, at least he was alive. For now. I followed him through the tall grass, and into the brush, where all I got was about 50 burdock's in my hair, and scratches on my legs from thistle and raspberry bushes.
Chad came home from work a couple hours later, and we went out and looked again. This time, with a net. (Fishing nets are a MUST on a farm.) I was walking through the brush where I last saw him, pouting about how I had no clue where he might be when Chad says.."How about right there?" And there he was. In the grass, (No where near where I was looking, of course.) eating a dandelion, and apparently enjoying his freedom. So, nature amazes me sometimes, how a 3 week old duckling can manage to keep himself alive in the great outdoors with no guidance. Needless to say, he is one lucky duck.....
