Yesterday, the Farm Manager burst through the back door with a stranger carrying a couple of big plastic containers. I was hoping it was lettuce or trimmings from the grocery store, but then the stranger dumped three big white ducks out of those containers into the bully pen. And then he left.
The Farm Manager doesn’t call them dumped ducks because of that. She says it’s the second time it happened to them. It’s the first time they were dumped into our bully pen, the separate pen inside our aviary. That’s where new birds hang out until I have completed their paperwork.
The old drakes are very excited because they are girls, big white fancy ducks. I had to remind Shamrock that he is already infatuated with Cubicle, who (ahem) happens to be my main squeeze. We worked that out years ago. She only has eyes for me, so if Shamrock wants to follow her around like a love-sick puppy, it frees me up to take care of the flock. It’s like he is her Secret Service detail, and I’m okay with that.
So that leaves three big girls for three elderly drakes. One of the girls looks pretty rough, mussed feathers, limping a bit, kind of a schnoz on her, to tell the truth. The Farm Manager told me she had her foot caught in some rocks when they were still feral. She missed a few meals is all. Heck, Vinny is mostly blind, he’ll think she’s gorgeous!
We had a nasty cold rainy day and I swear some of that was snow. The Farm Manager put out some not-yet-muddy shavings where they hang out. Then at dusk she gave up and herded them into the barn, gave them the dry cat area. They sure do know how to protest! I forgot about how loud the girls can be! But it was soon dark and I saw them in Bev’s favorite spot, looking quite content. Bev lurked outside the gate, huffing and chuffing. She’ll get over it.
It has been boring around here, just the way we like it. Now that we have these hussies to stir things up, I’ll keep you posted more often. The Farm Manager said she plans to fill you in on the details. Someday.