BY Jordan Shay
I am a lazy farmer at heart – I like to grow things that produce the most with the least input. Maybe I farm and garden with the 80/20 rule in mind, where 80 percent of your productivity comes from 20 percent of your input. For me, of the vegetables I grow, and the animals I raise, the ones that require the least daily maintenance are the ones I enjoy the most. In that case, the most enjoyable animals on my urban farm are the ducks.
Last April, I got ten day-old ducklings in the mail from Metzer Farms. When I stepped into the Louisiana Avenue post office, the entire building was echoing with the din of the cheeping ducklings. Their cute commotion even brought smiles to the normally surly postal workers’ faces. As soon as I picked up the tiny cardboard box with quarter-sized holes, the cheeping stopped and the ducklings stayed quiet while the car was moving and until I got home. Then I opened the box, to much indignant cheeping, and lifted each one out individually to show it how to drink water. Baby birds, when they hatch, have the ability to go without food and water for 48 hours, because of the nutrients absorbed from the yolk, so it’s possible to ship them overnight.
For the first week, the ducklings lived in a rubber maid tub filled with shredded paper in a room that functions as an office, with occasional trips outside on sunny days to hang out on the grass in an enclosure. Each morn suit.
One duck would get the idea to eat and then the rest would see and run/flap/quack over to the feed, again as if to say, “That’s a great idea!” They seem to do everything with gusto:
eating, waddling, quacking, sleeping, flapping, swimming, bathing. They talk about it all too: when they walk through the grassy weeds, they arch their necks down to the ground, using their beaks as a tool, digging for insects, roots, leaves, with muted quacks to each other about how each one’s find is more delicious than the others’. Mushrooms seem to be a particular favorite, and I often find them over on the mulch in the old pig pen the day after a rain, chatting and nibbling away on whatever fungi has popped up over
Golden 300 [ducks] are a hybrid breed developed to lay as many eggs, or more, per year as chickens—at least 300.
ing, the back room that they inhabited rang with high-pitched cheeping as the ducklings greeted the day, or chatted with each other about their night. After about two weeks, the ducklings were comfortable spending the day outside, but still coming into the garage at night, until they finished feathering out. Ducklings need to be protected from cold until they get true feathers–in another situation they would have a mother to protect them from chills.
As the ducklings grew to an adolescent stage, I tried to leave them outside for longer periods of time. I would come out after dark only to be greeted by a racket of demanding cheeps and quacks. The ducks seemed to be protesting that they wanted to go to bed, to a warmer place, jumping up and down at the edge of the enclosure, flapping their stubby, non-existent wings and making as much indignant noise as possible. Now that they’re adults, they own the backyard with the chickens, and are free to make their own schedule.
Watching them grow up so rapidly was one of the most entertaining animal rearing experiences I’ve witnessed. They are skeptical, yet inquisitive creatures, enthusiastic about everything (as long as it’s their idea). As ducklings, one would get the idea to go into their pond, then the rest would follow, cheeping as if to say, “That’s a great idea!” Then another duck would run out of the water, flapping ecstatically, waddling/running in a wide circle, as the rest decided to do it too in swift pur
night.
Maybe that’s why they’re always happy.
I am allowing these animals to be my pets for now, because they are for egg-laying. I sold a few of the ducks, so now I’m down to a much more manageable flock number, comprised of a Golden 300 and two Buff Orpington ducks. The Golden 300s are a breed developed to lay as many eggs or more as a chicken in a year (at least 300), but they are a hybrid, so the offspring won’t be true to the parents. Hybrids are generally not my thing, but these efficient ladies are an experiment for me and so far they have lived up to their promise—they laid eggs throughout the cold months, even when the chickens went on strike.
Unfortunately, these ducks are the most endearing livestock animals I’ve ever raised. They are always cheerful and excited about what they do, as opposed to the chickens, which look at everything with noisy condescension and scorn. My chickens, two large Buff Orpingtons, as comical as they are, are called Ridiculous and Obnoxious for a reason.
The ducks have quite simply made it much more interesting to open my back door. As soon as the ducks hear the door open, they quack (usually a trio of quacks from each duck, going from loud to soft, “QUACK, Quack, quack!). Stretching out their necks to see what I’m up to, the ducks then decide everything is as it should be and go back to the
