Let me tell you how my day has been.
Got up, went to let the birds out, noticed something had tried to get into the duck hut, suspected the fox. I let the birds out “11 geese + 4 ducks,” and immediately had to chase after the ducks because my female Cayuga “Moon Beam” was speeding down to the lower yard to build a nest in the blackberries….where the fox lives, and leading the other three ducks down with her. This has been a daily thing.
I managed to cut her off and chase them back up the hill where she chose a safer prospect in the lavender.
About an hour or so later the ducks had moved on to wheedling in the bushes on the edge of the upper lawn. I’m not far away. I hear one of the ducks scream, I charge down through the brush like the feral beast I’am just in time to see the fox just grab at Bee “my female Welsh Harlequin” as Moon Beam, Sun Beam “Buff drake,” and Truffle “Buff x Cayuga drake,” are rushing past me in terror. The fox sees me bearing down on it and chooses life. It drops Bee and tears off down the hill with me chasing. Bee surprisingly was completely fine, everyone was understandably very spooked.
Later about 1pm I had to intercept Moon and Bee again as they decided to try for the lower yard again like they were on a Sunday stroll. Goldfish must have bigger brains.
Fast forward to evening. I’m getting everyone ready to go in for the night, spreading some clean bedding, the geese are waiting patiently watching me work, the ducks, all 4 of them, are loitering around. I take my eyes off them for a minute, look back and there are only 3 ducks.
Now this isn’t a big deal, Bee like clockwork every evening has a sudden urge to ditch the other ducks and hide herself in a bush, in a different bush every night, and I have to find her. Every. Night.
I get everyone in and begin the evening ritual of hide and seek with Bee. Usually she’s not too far away, usually, not always, sometimes she likes to shake it up and hide in a bush on the other side of the yard. Bee doesn’t come when called, she doesn’t even make a sound when called unlike the other ducks, she stays perfectly still and silent until you’re about to step on her and only then will she finally move. Her striated feathers break up her outline which makes her surprisingly difficult to spot in dense foliage, so finding her isn’t always easy, but usually it only takes me a minute or two to find her because she isn’t too deep in the brush.
Tonight was different. I began my search, checked the places I’ve found her in the past, two minutes stretched to five, then to ten and then I began to worry. I rechecked her familiar haunts, called her name “not that it makes much difference, she never answers anyway,” widened my search to the rest of the yard. I could not find her. I checked deeper into the brush, then began the search in the lower yard. At this point I had a horrible sinking feeling that I was going to find bloodied feathers, that she had stollen herself away like the idiot she is and the fox had snatched her.
The sun had set and I was still searching, now frantically, sad and at the same time angry with her for her stupidity. I looked and looked but couldn’t find any sign of her anywhere. Finally I gave up the search.
Twilight had settled in pretty deep, I checked on the other birds one last time, devastated that we had lost Bee and then I left to go inside.
That little B**** comes waltzing out of a blackberry hedge just when she thought I was gone out of sight. She almost got killed by the fox today and she hides from me so that she can spend the night out with the fox. I don’t think there’s a single functioning brain cell between those beady eyes.
Got up, went to let the birds out, noticed something had tried to get into the duck hut, suspected the fox. I let the birds out “11 geese + 4 ducks,” and immediately had to chase after the ducks because my female Cayuga “Moon Beam” was speeding down to the lower yard to build a nest in the blackberries….where the fox lives, and leading the other three ducks down with her. This has been a daily thing.
I managed to cut her off and chase them back up the hill where she chose a safer prospect in the lavender.
About an hour or so later the ducks had moved on to wheedling in the bushes on the edge of the upper lawn. I’m not far away. I hear one of the ducks scream, I charge down through the brush like the feral beast I’am just in time to see the fox just grab at Bee “my female Welsh Harlequin” as Moon Beam, Sun Beam “Buff drake,” and Truffle “Buff x Cayuga drake,” are rushing past me in terror. The fox sees me bearing down on it and chooses life. It drops Bee and tears off down the hill with me chasing. Bee surprisingly was completely fine, everyone was understandably very spooked.
Later about 1pm I had to intercept Moon and Bee again as they decided to try for the lower yard again like they were on a Sunday stroll. Goldfish must have bigger brains.
Fast forward to evening. I’m getting everyone ready to go in for the night, spreading some clean bedding, the geese are waiting patiently watching me work, the ducks, all 4 of them, are loitering around. I take my eyes off them for a minute, look back and there are only 3 ducks.
Now this isn’t a big deal, Bee like clockwork every evening has a sudden urge to ditch the other ducks and hide herself in a bush, in a different bush every night, and I have to find her. Every. Night.
I get everyone in and begin the evening ritual of hide and seek with Bee. Usually she’s not too far away, usually, not always, sometimes she likes to shake it up and hide in a bush on the other side of the yard. Bee doesn’t come when called, she doesn’t even make a sound when called unlike the other ducks, she stays perfectly still and silent until you’re about to step on her and only then will she finally move. Her striated feathers break up her outline which makes her surprisingly difficult to spot in dense foliage, so finding her isn’t always easy, but usually it only takes me a minute or two to find her because she isn’t too deep in the brush.
Tonight was different. I began my search, checked the places I’ve found her in the past, two minutes stretched to five, then to ten and then I began to worry. I rechecked her familiar haunts, called her name “not that it makes much difference, she never answers anyway,” widened my search to the rest of the yard. I could not find her. I checked deeper into the brush, then began the search in the lower yard. At this point I had a horrible sinking feeling that I was going to find bloodied feathers, that she had stollen herself away like the idiot she is and the fox had snatched her.
The sun had set and I was still searching, now frantically, sad and at the same time angry with her for her stupidity. I looked and looked but couldn’t find any sign of her anywhere. Finally I gave up the search.
Twilight had settled in pretty deep, I checked on the other birds one last time, devastated that we had lost Bee and then I left to go inside.
That little B**** comes waltzing out of a blackberry hedge just when she thought I was gone out of sight. She almost got killed by the fox today and she hides from me so that she can spend the night out with the fox. I don’t think there’s a single functioning brain cell between those beady eyes.
