A Week of (Pleasant) Surprises

Most of the time farmers try to plan big events during the year, such as the planting and harvesting of crops. Typically surprises are the unwelcome kind, like finding a fence knocked down or a busted water line, so we try to be prepared whenever possible. This is especially true when it comes to the breeding and birth of our animals. Its not really something you want to leave to chance, since so many things can potentially go wrong. Despite our best efforts, this week was full of surprise babies.

I woke up early one day, and still in a bit of a sleepy stupor, I started my normal routine of morning farm chores. I grabbed a bucket of feed and one with water and wandered over to give the ducks their daily ration. I filled their feeder first, and it was not until I turned and headed towards their water that I saw a tiny speck of yellow fluff dart across the grass. A second later I heard the distinct squeaking and I knew…we had baby ducks. I followed the sound and found one very protective mama duck, an oddly proud guard goose, and no less than 16 new ducklings.

We raise Muscovy ducks for eggs, a big goose-like breed with distinctive red bumps around their faces. Muscovies are known to hatch young on their own very well, but up until now we had not seen very many hens interested in sitting on a nest. There was one small clutch I had been keeping an eye on lately, but when I checked I found that hen still incubating her eggs. I had not found any duck eggs in a few weeks and I figured it was just the time of year when they take a break from laying. I never imagined that there was a secret nest somewhere that apparently multiple females had been stashing eggs to be hatched by one very nurturing lady duck, and I still have not spotted any sign of its remains. Wherever it was, she must have been well hidden from predators too. But now out in the open her young were extremely vulnerable. In fact I saw our barn cat Cheddar stalking them, practically licking his lips. I decided the best course of action would be to catch them and move them to our brooder where I could not only keep them safe but warm and properly fed as well. Mama duck did not give them up without a fight, and while I totally respected her gumption it made me feel terrible about taking away her infants that she had worked so hard to hatch. To complicate things, our scaredy-cat, no-good guard goose Ralph weirdly took it upon himself to be the personal bodyguard to the new family, posturing and honking whenever I tried to grab a duckling. I finally managed to catch them all and get them squared away under a heat lamp with all the essentials…or so I thought. Mama duck marched over to the brooder, squawked some orders and to my amazement the ducklings started climbing out! Like expert mountain climbers they easily scaled the 2 foot high plywood walls with their tiny sharp talons and hopped back to mom. I caught them again, and after several attempts at security measures they were still wiggling their way out whenever mom told them to. I noticed that once she had a couple back under her wings she would calm down a bit and wander back towards the flock. Then I realized that ducks can’t count. I let her entice 4 babies out, blocked the rest and waited. Sure enough she seemed satisfied, and her and Ralph contentedly waddled away. We had reached an understanding. She has proven to be an excellent mom and so far all 16 ducklings are doing outstanding.

The next surprise happened in the middle of the day. I was going about my normal routine of walking the dogs after lunch, mostly wrapped up in my own thoughts, when another very distinct sound crept into my awareness. Off in the distance I heard the bleats of a newborn baby goat! I was completely unprepared to hear this, as we don’t have very many goats and most of them have only been here a few months. When we bought our Nubians they were all too skinny and some had parasite issues. The previous owner mentioned there was a small possibility that they could be pregnant, but I figured this was unlikely in their current state. Slowly we’ve managed to get them healthy again and while they’ve definitely gained weight, I never thought any of them looked remotely pregnant. Nevertheless I jogged up to the wooded area where they were grazing and there they were - 2 adorable bucklings, still wet with afterbirth and screaming their hungry little heads off. The doe was attentively licking them, and graciously let me check her and the babies over. Everything checked out normal, and before long both were up and nursing. The whole family has continued to thrive, all without much help from us.

Perhaps unplanned births aren’t the ideal or most responsible way to run a farm, but when they happen successfully it sure is a lot of fun. I prefer to be overly protective in these situations, hovering over new and expectant mothers, ready to intervene at the first sign of trouble. It makes me feel more at ease and in control. But raising animals has a habit of humbling us sometimes, and this week was a good reminder that nature has been doing this reproduction thing for a long time without any human help, and that life often finds a way.