They were only 3 months old, and although they were feathered-out and appeared full-grown, they were really barely teenagers. But the boys seemed to like them (especially Roscoe, who took to them immediately) and everything went swimmingly at first.
Here is Roscoe with his "women." Maggie and Mary Ellen are Black Swedish, and Blue is a Blue Swedish.
The young ducks played like teenagers at a pool party. Splashing and chasing and diving and generally being goofy. I loved watching them. I adored the way they used their little feet, piddle-paddle, piddle-paddle as if they were bicycling, stirring up the mud and algae beneath them to get food.
Everything was peaceful on the canal for the first day or so, where the two big boys, Hershey and Snickers, hung out by themselves, while little Roscoe quietly shepherded the girls around their new surroundings.
But then . . . the big boys decided to act badly, chasing the young girls unmercifully, and it really wasn't pretty. It was a full out bar brawl, and the girl ducks were totally too young for all that. Finally, I had to separate them. *sigh* And then I had to make a choice. Did I really need all these ducks? Or should I find some of them a new home?
So . . . after much deciding . . . the two bad boys went to a new home, where they will each have their own wife. And guess who got to stay here on the farm, and escort three beautiful girl ducks around all day?
Little Roscoe, who had the last laugh after all.
Finally, all is peaceful on the canal once again.
Gentlemen, be nice to your womenfolk.
2 comments:
Ahhhh, such a great story. Little Roscoe won in the end. I anxiously await the next chapter in this tale. I love it.
Thanks for stopping by, Patti. Ducks are such a great addition, especially to a place with water. We spend a lot of time watching their antics. :-)
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