Duck was a survivor from the very beginning. She was part of a clutch of eggs given to us by a friend. We put the eggs in the incubator with chicken eggs and didn’t realize until later that the duck eggs required a longer incubation period. We expected the change in humidity towards the last days of their development would spell the end of the duck eggs, and for two it did. But one beautiful morning we came down stairs and heard the insistent peeps from one of the eggs and Duck was hatched
She was a gregarious creature who lived with the chickens but held herself somewhat apart.
Her most memorable attribute was her laugh. Duck had the innate ability to laugh, and always at just the right moment. A pun by Ian generated a hearty HAH HAH HAH from the bird. Any quip around the barnyard was rewarded by her acknowledging laugh, even from the other side of the yard. Neighbors walking their dogs past would also generate laughter. She found humor in every situation, but it was always timed perfectly – as though she was just waiting for the punch line. Everyone who visited commented on her wry sense of humor and her wit.
Duck also produced marvelous eggs. The shell was like white, translucent porcelain. Her eggs were larger than those of the chickens and the flavor was little deeper, a little richer – like duck herself. I used her eggs to make my first angel food cake and it was light and airy.
She was a fan of the rain and when puddles gathered in the yard she was in the middle of them splashing and playing. As a duckling we would place her in a large tote filled with water so she could learn to swim. As much as she enjoyed the water, she was always in hurry to return to her chicken friends.
Duck loved to walk through the grass shoveling her bill back and forth looking for tasty morsels. She lived a free-range life until this spring, when she and the chickens were fenced into to a spacious park area. But there was no confining duck. She found a way to always get back to where the action was and we’d find her sleeping in the flower bed, visiting the horse and cow, or just sitting in the front yard.
In recent days she completely moved out of the hen house and relocated to the barn with the young turkeys. She seemed to like the freedom and had more leeway to come and go as she pleased.
The barnyard will be a quieter and less jolly place without Duck’s gregarious presence, but we have been made richer by sharing her brief life.
