- Thread starter
- #11
Thank you. I do too. If you've ever read The Velveteen Rabbit, a rex is always what I picture when I read about it turning into a real rabbit.
Fair is fowl, fowl is fair.
- Thread starter fowltemptress
- Start date
- Thread starter
- #12
It's the second day of Spring, and hopefully that means there will soon be an end to frozen water buckets. It also means the muscovies are itching to start brooding, and they've been peeved at me for not yet giving them back their nesting areas. In a fit of impatience, they've been resorting to using the banana box I left in there for the not-chickens' laying needs. This was a mess; not-chicken eggs are not built to withstand the weight of a duck.
The not-chicken is perturbed by this development.
I had been using discarded trash cans for my muscovies to nest in, but I decided to quit using those and instead I asked my husband to put some holes in some cheap tub thingies I found last year. He used an oscillating tool for the entries and a hole saw for the ventilation circles. Now instead of reaching all the way into the back of a trash can to check on the status of eggs, I can just lift the tubs up to check on things. The trash cans have been put to use elsewhere.
This . . .
. . . was replaced by this.
I put the new nesting tubs into their coop this morning. There are eggs in a couple already, so the tubs are officially muscovy approved!
The not-chicken is perturbed by this development.
I had been using discarded trash cans for my muscovies to nest in, but I decided to quit using those and instead I asked my husband to put some holes in some cheap tub thingies I found last year. He used an oscillating tool for the entries and a hole saw for the ventilation circles. Now instead of reaching all the way into the back of a trash can to check on the status of eggs, I can just lift the tubs up to check on things. The trash cans have been put to use elsewhere.
This . . .
. . . was replaced by this.
I put the new nesting tubs into their coop this morning. There are eggs in a couple already, so the tubs are officially muscovy approved!
- Thread starter
- #13
When we were moving here I made it very clear to my husband that I have always had one and only goal in life: to own geese. As soon as we set foot here I was online ordering goslings. Nothing was set up or prepared for keeping geese, but I wasn't going to let a little something like "being prepared" keep me from geese for one more second. And my husband understood and accepted that. What neither of us counted on was my last minute decision to also order muscovies. I was just about to press enter on my gosling order when I glanced at the muscovies listed on the site and said, "Hon? How would you feel if I got ducks?"
The man didn't even blink. Seriously guys, if you gotta get married, I highly recommend finding yourself the type of person who, in response to being told there's currently 95 birds on the property, says, "Sounds like we need five more to make it an even hundred." The only problem is he won't agree to those five birds being emus. Or even capybaras, citing some ridiculous nonsense like capybaras aren't even birds. I say there's no way to verify that unless we buy them, but he won't budge on the issue. I guess no relationship is perfect.
The salient point is, he was on board for muscovies.
Growing up I loved going to a neighborhood duck pond. My favorite ducks there were the pretty looking ones with the funny red Zorro masks. I always wanted them, but everyone else always thought they were ugly. Even my enabling husband hated their caruncles and would have preferred a mallard derived breed. In fact, I think one of the reasons he didn't put up more of a fuss was my assurances that muscovies tasted more like beef than duck.
I ordered four ducks , and the hatchery sent five, four of which turned out to be female. Annie, Shirley, Britta, Frankie, and Putin. Frankie consistently laid double yolkers, which unfortunately led to her dying after suffering a prolapse. Britta died suddenly at a year old, but Annie and Shirley are still bopping around.
I loved Putin, but unfortunately he loved me back - a little too much. It got to the point where I was scared to go outside. And it wasn't like a mean rooster with their sudden attacks. With Putin, you could hear him coming. It started with hearing his rhythmic hissing off in the distance, and it gradually got closer and closer as the anxiety and tension built. It was the muscovy Version of the Jaws theme, and after some time my nerves couldn't take it anymore. I still miss that scary son of a gun.
Losing Putin didn't leave me drakeless. I had also found someone who sold me some muscovy eggs to incubate, and from those eggs I got Winger and Katya.
That first year of owning muscovies I never knew drakes had tails. Winger and Putin were constantly fighting, and their tail feathers were always the first casualties.
It's been a lot more peaceful with only one drake.
That first year my first muscovy to go broody hatched Snafu and Genghis, who are now both permanent members of the flock.
Genghis on left, Snafu in the middle.
Genghis grew like a beast and had fully developed caruncles weeks earlier than any other muscovy I've raised. She's definitely Putin's little girl.
When Britta died, I replaced her with Inigo from a batch of ducklings that had hatched that year. In hindsight I wish I hadn't. Not that anything is wrong with Inigo, but muscovies are so prolific I can't see any reason to have more than three or four hens. I think I kept Inigo because I wanted a barred muscovy in my flock.
Inigo actually replaced what would have been Britta's replacement, but that duck missed her landing, breaking her leg and causing me to have to dispatch her. I always keep my adults' wings clipped now to avoid another incident like that, though the babies I grow out for meat enjoy a couple of weeks of zooming around.
This is the first year I've felt that I've got a handle on all the housing and feeding and whatnot, and everything is running smoothly. I know I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I'd waited until I was prepared before ordering poultry - especially the ducks, who truly were an impulse buy. But if I'd been prepared, would I have purchased the ducks at all? I don't think so, and I'd be missing out on my second favorite poultry species on the farm. There's also a lot I've learned through trial and error that I just couldn't have possibly accounted for beforehand. Like just how dang impossible it is to tell a broody you don't want more ducklings when she's giving you those cute little defensive broody squeaks. I always give in, dang it, and then I wind up with this:
But the most important takeaway? Caruncles are gorgeous on a muscovy, and people who say otherwise are wrong.
The man didn't even blink. Seriously guys, if you gotta get married, I highly recommend finding yourself the type of person who, in response to being told there's currently 95 birds on the property, says, "Sounds like we need five more to make it an even hundred." The only problem is he won't agree to those five birds being emus. Or even capybaras, citing some ridiculous nonsense like capybaras aren't even birds. I say there's no way to verify that unless we buy them, but he won't budge on the issue. I guess no relationship is perfect.
The salient point is, he was on board for muscovies.
Growing up I loved going to a neighborhood duck pond. My favorite ducks there were the pretty looking ones with the funny red Zorro masks. I always wanted them, but everyone else always thought they were ugly. Even my enabling husband hated their caruncles and would have preferred a mallard derived breed. In fact, I think one of the reasons he didn't put up more of a fuss was my assurances that muscovies tasted more like beef than duck.
I ordered four ducks , and the hatchery sent five, four of which turned out to be female. Annie, Shirley, Britta, Frankie, and Putin. Frankie consistently laid double yolkers, which unfortunately led to her dying after suffering a prolapse. Britta died suddenly at a year old, but Annie and Shirley are still bopping around.
I loved Putin, but unfortunately he loved me back - a little too much. It got to the point where I was scared to go outside. And it wasn't like a mean rooster with their sudden attacks. With Putin, you could hear him coming. It started with hearing his rhythmic hissing off in the distance, and it gradually got closer and closer as the anxiety and tension built. It was the muscovy Version of the Jaws theme, and after some time my nerves couldn't take it anymore. I still miss that scary son of a gun.
Losing Putin didn't leave me drakeless. I had also found someone who sold me some muscovy eggs to incubate, and from those eggs I got Winger and Katya.
That first year of owning muscovies I never knew drakes had tails. Winger and Putin were constantly fighting, and their tail feathers were always the first casualties.
It's been a lot more peaceful with only one drake.
That first year my first muscovy to go broody hatched Snafu and Genghis, who are now both permanent members of the flock.
Genghis on left, Snafu in the middle.
Genghis grew like a beast and had fully developed caruncles weeks earlier than any other muscovy I've raised. She's definitely Putin's little girl.
When Britta died, I replaced her with Inigo from a batch of ducklings that had hatched that year. In hindsight I wish I hadn't. Not that anything is wrong with Inigo, but muscovies are so prolific I can't see any reason to have more than three or four hens. I think I kept Inigo because I wanted a barred muscovy in my flock.
Inigo actually replaced what would have been Britta's replacement, but that duck missed her landing, breaking her leg and causing me to have to dispatch her. I always keep my adults' wings clipped now to avoid another incident like that, though the babies I grow out for meat enjoy a couple of weeks of zooming around.
This is the first year I've felt that I've got a handle on all the housing and feeding and whatnot, and everything is running smoothly. I know I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I'd waited until I was prepared before ordering poultry - especially the ducks, who truly were an impulse buy. But if I'd been prepared, would I have purchased the ducks at all? I don't think so, and I'd be missing out on my second favorite poultry species on the farm. There's also a lot I've learned through trial and error that I just couldn't have possibly accounted for beforehand. Like just how dang impossible it is to tell a broody you don't want more ducklings when she's giving you those cute little defensive broody squeaks. I always give in, dang it, and then I wind up with this:
But the most important takeaway? Caruncles are gorgeous on a muscovy, and people who say otherwise are wrong.
Last edited:
Stunning flock of birds you have.When we were moving here I made it very clear to my husband that I have always had one and only goal in life: to own geese. As soon as we set foot here I was online ordering goslings. Nothing was set up or prepared for keeping geese, but I wasn't going to let a little something like "being prepared" keep me from geese for one more second. And my husband understood and accepted that. What neither of us counted on was my last minute decision to also order muscovies. I was just about to press enter on my gosling order when I glanced at the muscovies listed on the site and said, "Hon? How would you feel if I got ducks?"
The man didn't even blink. Seriously guys, if you gotta get married, I highly recommend finding yourself the type of person who, in response to being told there's currently 95 birds on the property, says, "Sounds like we need five more to make it an even hundred." The only problem is he won't agree to those five birds being emus. Or even capybaras, citing some ridiculous nonsense like capybaras aren't even birds. I say there's no way to verify that unless we buy them, but he won't budge on the issue. I guess no relationship is perfect.
The salient point is, he was on board for muscovies.
View attachment 4083549
Growing up I loved going to a neighborhood duck pond. My favorite ducks there were the pretty looking ones with the funny red Zorro masks. I always wanted them, but everyone else always thought they were ugly. Even my enabling husband hated their caruncles and would have preferred a mallard derived breed. In fact, I think one of the reasons he didn't put up more of a fuss was my assurances that muscovies tasted more like beef than duck.
I ordered four ducks , and the hatchery sent five, four of which turned out to be female. Annie, Shirley, Britta, Frankie, and Putin. Frankie consistently laid double yolkers, which unfortunately led to her dying after suffering a prolapse. Britta died suddenly at a year old, but Annie and Shirley are still bopping around.
View attachment 4083569
I loved Putin, but unfortunately he loved me - a little too much. It got to the point where I was scared to go outside. And it wasn't like a mean rooster with their sudden attacks. With Putin, you could hear him coming. It started with hearing his rhythmic hissing off in the distance, and it gradually got closer and closer as the anxiety and tension built. It was the muscovy Version of the Jaws theme, and after some time my nerves couldn't take it anymore. I still miss that scary son of a gun.
View attachment 4083572
Losing Putin didn't leave me drakeless. I had also found someone who sold me some muscovy eggs to incubate, and from those eggs I got Winger and Katya.
View attachment 4083577View attachment 4083578
That first year of owning muscovies I never knew drakes had tails. Winger and Putin were constantly fighting, and their tail feathers were always the first casualties.
View attachment 4083581
It's been a lot more peaceful with only one drake.
That first year my first muscovy to go broody hatched Snafu and Genghis, who are now both permanent members of the flock.
View attachment 4083591
Genghis on left, Snafu in the middle.
Genghis grew like a beast and had fully developed caruncles weeks earlier than any other muscovy I've raised. She's definitely Putin's little girl.
View attachment 4083598
View attachment 4083595
When Britta died, I replaced her with Inigo from a batch of ducklings that had hatched that year. In hindsight I wish I hadn't. Not that anything is wrong with Inigo, but muscovies are so prolific I can't see any reason to have more than three or four hens. I think I kept Inigo because I wanted a barred muscovy in my flock.
View attachment 4083605
Inigo actually replaced what would have been Britta's replacement, but that duck missed her landing, breaking her leg and causing me to have to dispatch her. I always keep my adults' wings clipped now to avoid another incident like that, though the babies I grow out for meat enjoy a couple of weeks of zooming around.
View attachment 4083606
This is the first year I've felt that I've got a handle on all the housing and feeding and whatnot, and everything is running smoothly. I know I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I'd waited until I was prepared before ordering poultry - especially the ducks, who truly were an impulse buy. But if I'd been prepared, would I have purchased the ducks at all? I don't think so, and I'd be missing out on my second favorite poultry species on the farm. There's also a lot I've learned through trial and error that I just couldn't have possibly accounted for beforehand. Like just how dang impossible it is to tell a broody you don't want more ducklings when she's giving you those cute little defensive broody squeaks. I always give in, dang it, and then I wind up with this:
View attachment 4083613
But the most important takeaway? Caruncles are gorgeous on a muscovy, and people who say otherwise are wrong.
View attachment 4083617
I love these stories! They're funny, sad, and heartfelt always. Keep on writing!
- Thread starter
- #16
My geese generally like to ride out storms by standing in the middle of the pasture and facing the wind. This time they tried that for a few seconds before rapidly changing their strategy and booking it for the nearest shelter. I've never seen them move so fast . . .
Those must have hurt!
Luckily it looks like everyone made it through the hail. I had gone running out to grab the dogs before it started coming down. I wasn't worried about them in the hail; dogs are smart enough to get in out of it. But I AM utterly convinced that everything I love will be struck by lightning. Don't look up lightning stats if you have a fear of lightning - it doesn't help. My husband and parents all have this inexplicable love of storms and will go stand in the yard to watch lightning. If my husband wasn't too large for me to drag, I might seriously consider knocking his noggin and locking him up in the basement until the storm passes. Then again, he's much less diligent about washing fruits and veggies before eating them than I am (I always wash them first!), yet I was the one who wound having to go to the doctor for issues usually related to unwashed veggies. With my luck, I'll be knocked out by a bolt from a clear sky, and my family will probably be upset that they weren't outside to see the bolt strike!
We did had a storm blow through here days ago that decided we had one too many gates on the property:
Crumpled like a bow tie - Paul Bunyan could wear that thing and look quite dapper.
That gate was a favorite perching spot for my guineas. They spent several minutes the other morning chattering at it and giving it a piece of their mind for daring to change shape on them. One guinea was indignant when it tried hopping up only to slip down it like it was a slide.
Speaking of guineas, on one of the walks with the dogs today I found an explosion of guinea feathers, so I fear the April bird count will be a little less than the March bird count. I've been wrong before, though, when these feather piles were the result of fighting guineas. Guinea fights have been up lately, and they've been eyeballing brushy areas in the woods for potential nesting sites. We'll see on Tuesday if I have slightly balder guineas on the property, or a happy hawk.
Those must have hurt!
Luckily it looks like everyone made it through the hail. I had gone running out to grab the dogs before it started coming down. I wasn't worried about them in the hail; dogs are smart enough to get in out of it. But I AM utterly convinced that everything I love will be struck by lightning. Don't look up lightning stats if you have a fear of lightning - it doesn't help. My husband and parents all have this inexplicable love of storms and will go stand in the yard to watch lightning. If my husband wasn't too large for me to drag, I might seriously consider knocking his noggin and locking him up in the basement until the storm passes. Then again, he's much less diligent about washing fruits and veggies before eating them than I am (I always wash them first!), yet I was the one who wound having to go to the doctor for issues usually related to unwashed veggies. With my luck, I'll be knocked out by a bolt from a clear sky, and my family will probably be upset that they weren't outside to see the bolt strike!
We did had a storm blow through here days ago that decided we had one too many gates on the property:
Crumpled like a bow tie - Paul Bunyan could wear that thing and look quite dapper.
That gate was a favorite perching spot for my guineas. They spent several minutes the other morning chattering at it and giving it a piece of their mind for daring to change shape on them. One guinea was indignant when it tried hopping up only to slip down it like it was a slide.
Speaking of guineas, on one of the walks with the dogs today I found an explosion of guinea feathers, so I fear the April bird count will be a little less than the March bird count. I've been wrong before, though, when these feather piles were the result of fighting guineas. Guinea fights have been up lately, and they've been eyeballing brushy areas in the woods for potential nesting sites. We'll see on Tuesday if I have slightly balder guineas on the property, or a happy hawk.
- Thread starter
- #17
Stunning flock of birds you have.
I love these stories! They're funny, sad, and heartfelt always. Keep on writing!
Thank you!
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- Thread starter
- #18
I FORGOT TO COUNT THE GUINEAS! I'm so mad at myself. When I woke up today I thought, "I need to count the guineas." As I was getting dressed I thought, "I need to count the guineas." As I was gathering feed in buckets for distribution I thought, "I need to count the guineas." As I walked towards the guinea coops I thought, "I need to count the guineas." And as I was opening the guinea coop doors I was thinking, "Man, it would be cool if Darth Vader revealed himself to be my father and we got to rule the galaxy together. I'd convert the Death Star into my own personal emu coop." And the guineas streamed past my legs, uncounted, to fly off to do their daily guinea tasks while I was left adrift in science fiction fantasies.
Tomorrow morning I will remember to count the guineas.
I feel terribly guilty today. My mom will be visiting sometime in the Autumn for what I call slaughterfest: a weekend of butchering and smoking the birds I raised for meat this year. She wants to see if it's something she'd like to get into. I served smoked goose and muscovy last she was here, and she says lately she craves that meat so much she's having dreams about it. Usually I allow my birds to brood whenever they feel like and butcher the offspring when they reach the age I like, but since I'm aiming for a particular date this year I've had to shut up the nesting area sites until I'm ready for things to start sitting. Snafu is livid. she's stomping around in ducky anger and making those sweet little broody muscovy squeaks which I'm assuming are meant to be menacing but just make me want to pick up the bird and bury my face in their floofy breast as though they're a living feather pillow.
Goldie is anxious as all get out, pacing by the door to the coop and looking at me every few moments as if to say, "If this is an April Fools gag, it is NOT funny."
Luckily, no one else is at that broody stage yet; denying two birds their motherly instincts is tough enough.
Tomorrow morning I will remember to count the guineas.
I feel terribly guilty today. My mom will be visiting sometime in the Autumn for what I call slaughterfest: a weekend of butchering and smoking the birds I raised for meat this year. She wants to see if it's something she'd like to get into. I served smoked goose and muscovy last she was here, and she says lately she craves that meat so much she's having dreams about it. Usually I allow my birds to brood whenever they feel like and butcher the offspring when they reach the age I like, but since I'm aiming for a particular date this year I've had to shut up the nesting area sites until I'm ready for things to start sitting. Snafu is livid. she's stomping around in ducky anger and making those sweet little broody muscovy squeaks which I'm assuming are meant to be menacing but just make me want to pick up the bird and bury my face in their floofy breast as though they're a living feather pillow.
Goldie is anxious as all get out, pacing by the door to the coop and looking at me every few moments as if to say, "If this is an April Fools gag, it is NOT funny."
Luckily, no one else is at that broody stage yet; denying two birds their motherly instincts is tough enough.
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- Thread starter
- #19
April bird count:
9 geese
7 ducks
56 guineas
30 chickens
6 not chickens
So I did lose a guinea.
This morning there was a bald eagle flying low over the property, so before I released the birds I let the boys off their leash to run and bark while I ran around screaming and waving my arms like a loon. It never really phases the eagles, but it makes me feel better.
9 geese
7 ducks
56 guineas
30 chickens
6 not chickens
So I did lose a guinea.
This morning there was a bald eagle flying low over the property, so before I released the birds I let the boys off their leash to run and bark while I ran around screaming and waving my arms like a loon. It never really phases the eagles, but it makes me feel better.
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