Peepies update

Nobody's said anything to me, but aren't you wondering: How come no more Peepies updates?

Because they grew up. And they turned out to be mostly boys.

Now, if you troll Craigslist you're gonna see a lot of ads for free roosters. You could seriously stock your freezer with free roosters. You could do the same with drakes if people kept more ducks. As it is, those of us who do keep ducks want only one drake. Or none.

So what to do with Blackie and the three spotted ducks, the boys? I made some calls, sent some emails, and got in touch with a guy who said he'd help us slaughter them. Only, with my schedule, we could never get together, so Greg ended up helping the guy, Luke. Yes, the same Greg who said "I don't want to be a farmer, leave me out of that!"

The first day they only had time to do one duck, and it ended up being one of the spotted ones, back in the garden and out of sight of the other ducks, who Greg left in their coop. Well, they didn't like being cooped up and made quite a stink...until the hatchet came down on their brother's neck and, even though they couldn't see, they all fell silent.

When I got home the rest of the ducks were out in the yard and the house smelled like...wow. I got whisked to the table and sat down to a feast of duck a l'orange! Seems that Greg kept looking at that duck carcass in the fridge all morning and thought, What the hell...

It was awfully good.

We have since slaughtered (and eaten) the other three drakes, but since that first day, the duck's attitude toward us completely changed, and they are most unfriendly and distrustful! Imagine that. So I think we're hanging up our duck-keepers hat, and are working on giving the remaining girls to a good home. We'll just concentrate on chickens for now.

So who's that colorful fellow in the pond? In the convoluted course of our introduction to duck processing, we ended up with Carlene, a friend's drake that almost got offed but escaped and got back home...where he still wasn't wanted, so we took him in. And the girls, Flip and (in the middle) Gracie really like him, so when they go they'll go as a trio. Gracie and Flip haven't yet started to lay eggs, but should any day now. Stay tuned.

Refreshing the flock

Somehow this summer, in Benny and Carlin's minds a gauntlet was thrown, a line was crossed, a camel's back was snapped, and they decided they weren't going to take it anymore from those uppity chickens. No sir.

So when they hit their big summer molt, and got itchy and testy they started attacking the chickens. Especially Betty and Frenchy. And by attacking I mean constant trash-talking followed by holding their target down by the neck while the other pummeled or pulled feathers.

All day long!

They couldn't even sleep in the same coop—I made Benny and Carlin sleep with the Peepies in the Rectangular Coop so the chickens (and I) could have a restful night.

So to reestablish flock harmony, I posted Benny and Carlin on Craigslist yesterday, and today a very nice woman with chickens and ducks and goats and dogs and 20 acres came and took them away in a big dog crate in the back of her SUV.

Before she closed the hatch, Carlin gave me a frank stare: Are we going off to die?

"You're going to a new yard. Carlin, you and Benny were good ducks. Thank you." The woman shut the door. "Goodbye!"

Livin' La Vida Afuera

The Peepies turned three weeks old this Thursday. I was too busy to do anything about it, but today after I got home from work I made them a little pen out back for some fresh air:

They were 1) not happy to be corralled into the cat carrier and 2) not happy to have to wait for their dinner. They sat huddled in the sunshine appraising their new situation. When I put their pan of kibble down they begrudgingly said it was okay. Same when I put a pan of water down for them to bathe and have a little salad:

Suspicious Peepie minds

After dinner and a bath they felt better about things, and spent the next few hours sitting around and chatting about the day's events.

The bigger chicks—Big Spots, Blonde, and No Spots—are now a meaty two-handsful when I pick them up. Again, they weren't thrilled when it was time for their shuttle-cab back to the coop, but they were happy to be home once they arrived.

Still no quacking, still all down. Just more of it.

Dinner Salad

Mmm, chopped spinich with waterfowl starter crumbles. Yum!

(In other news, the Peepies are now permanantly residing

outside in the spare coop due to the unbelievable, poopy stench.)

Tea Time for the Peepies

We had a warm, humid day in Humboldt Co., so the Peepies got a lot of yard time. Mostly bathing during the day—lots of splashing, some bathing—but when I got home I decided it was tea time.

I put their water out, then picked through the strawberry patch for soft or bug-eaten berries. I even dug up some worms for an added kick. They went nuts.

We can still tell them apart pretty easily, not just in size—Blackie is about a quarter the size of Big Spots—but colors, too. Blackie, Brown, Blonde (we're hoping), Big Spots, Little Spots, and No Spots. In the picture above, Brown is in the middle, Blackie is lower left, Little Spots is lower right, Big Spots is closest to the watering can, No Spots is top left, and Blonde is to No Spots' right. They will be two weeks old this Thursday.

Several of the ducklings are now using their oil gland (at the base of their tail) while preening their down. Nobody is quacking yet; that won't happen for several weeks yet, and will be our first indication of who is a boy and who is a girl. (Girls quack; boys don't.) They are expert little dabblers, and will empty their quart-sized watering can in about ten minutes.

Curious ducklings ask, "Is that edible?"

Peepies: one week old today!

The little chirping, pooping, splashing machines are a week old today.

Meet the Peepies

We've had no luck getting adult ducks off CL, or even ducklings at the local feed stores, so when I saw a CL ad for runner ducklings born 5/20, we jumped:

We took six because we won't know if they're boys or girls until they feather out, and we wanted to increase our odds of getting girls who will lay us (and our neighbors) many tasty eggs. The size difference among them is pretty astonishing.

We have their security box, topped with cat-proof hardware cloth, in the dining rincon. It's still too cold for them to be kept outside, even at the tail-end of May. (Thank you, Humboldt!) The eerie red glow is from their heat lamp. Out of frame is the complete mess they made the moment I put them in the box. They accomplished this despite the box being empty of anything other than themselves and their waterer.

This is what the Peepies do when they're upset: huddle in the corner and peep really loudly. As soon as I put the wire top back on, they raced across the box to their refreshed food and water and began splashing about again. (I refill their quart-sized waterer two or three times a day!)

Ground Rules

Benny's head got wedged under my shovel while I was digging up blackberries. Don't worry—she's fine. And it did nothing to deter her from crowding me. The chickens, Marilyn and Pearl Wyandotte, do it now, too. I'm going to have to start locking them in the bailey when I dig before someone really gets hurt.