Raising Ducks
Basics
Duckling diary
Management
Housing
Eggs
Links/Resources
Movies
and please note:
The duckling diaries
Raising ducks: 6-12 months
Eddy and Bubble keep an eye on suspicious humans.
May 30, 2003: The ducks have been with us for a year. I have to
say that our experimental backyard poultry operation has been a rousing
success! We have wonderful eggs, enough to sell some to friends; we've
found a routine that integrates the ducks into our "halfway homestead,"
and we've been able to keep the ducks happy and healthy.
They really are a joy to have around...except
of course for the afternoon in April when "it come up a bad cloud"
and I had to herd the ducks into their pen in a torrential downpour and
hail. Today, though, it is sunny and 80 degrees, the sort of day to make
all of us happy to be alive, the ducks included I think. Contrary to popular
belief, they are not happiest when it rains: they'd rather take a dip
in the pool and then nap in the warm sun. Wouldn't we all.
In this entry I've included information on eggs, the ducks' behavior, and the changing seasons. And as always, the photos are at the bottom. I've included information on our daily routine, feeding, pasture system (such as it is), and winter care elsewhere on the site and won't duplicate it here.
Eggs
I did not really believe that Campbells would lay 300 eggs a year—I
thought we'd have to give them artificial light or push them somehow to
make them produce that much. But ours should top that figure easily without
any extra effort. Since they began laying in September, the seven hens
have laid 1,555 eggs; since November 1, when they settled into their egg-a-day
routine, they've laid 1,428, which is 204 eggs apiece in 210 days.
When I came up with that number last night I felt compelled to go outside
and offer my thanks in person. I wish I could also thank Adele Campbell,
who developed the breed a century ago: she bred a homestead duck with
industrial efficiency, an amazing job of husbandry.
Four dozen eggs a week is, obviously, more
than two people can eat. So we are selling some to friends at $3/dozen,
which most months covers the cost of the duck food. We've found that most
people either really like the duck eggs or get squeamish about them before
trying them. No one has rejected them in a blind taste test, and several
people have cooked them for unsuspecting families and been told that they
were the best eggs they'd ever eaten. I have to agree. The only downside
of this is that I no longer enjoy eating breakfast out, which used to
be a Saturday morning ritual. The eggs I get in restaraunts taste like
cardboard, and I can't avoid thinking about the poor chickens.
I have considerably more information about
duck eggs, our hens' egg
production, and cooking duck eggs elsewhere
on the website, and I won't repeat all that here.
Behavior
The ducks have settled pretty comfortably into their routine: out to
the grazing pen in the morning, some free-range time in the yard in the
evening (from when we get home from work until dusk, anywhere from a few
minutes in winter to a few hours in spring and summer), back into the
night pen when it starts getting dark. If we are not quick enough on the
uptake they remind us with special very loud squawking: if we linger over
coffee before letting them out in the morning, for example. When I get
home from work in the afternoon they greet me by quacking to be let out
in the yard. (I suppose it is nice to have your animals be happy to see
you.) When the sun goes down and the light starts to dim, they congregate
by the door to their pen, but for some reason won't go in until we are
there to shut the gate after them. I can only guess that they don't want
to be trapped should a predator arrive.
They also know at least two words of English:
"bedtime" and "lettuce." If we call "lettuce"
they come running for treats; if I say "bedtime" they start
moving toward the night pen without much guidance. It's not much of a
vocabulary, but it's more than I expected from ducks.
Their personalities have become more distinct over time. Eddy
is still very much in charge: if a dog or a squirrel comes too close,
she is first to chase him off by ducking her head and charging. When the
flock moves to a new location in the yard to hunt for bugs, she will often
keep guard for a minute or two to make sure it is safe before looking
for food herself. If the flock splits up, she will sometimes remain where
she can see both groups.
Saffy is still the first
to the food bowl in the morning and the most likely to fight Eddy for
special treats, such as when we toss them a slug from the garden. She
and Feynman, our runt-of-the-litter dog, share an obsession with food.
I expect when the cherry tomatoes come ripe again she will remember her
trick of jumping to take them from Kathy's hand.
Sybil has figured things
out finally, although she still occasionally misses the gate to the pen.
She hasn't escaped the grazing pen since she started laying—too
big now, I'm afraid.
Patsy still likes me best,
for some reason, as she has since she was days old. After Eddy, she is
the most willing to waddle up to me on her own. So I have a soft spot
for Patsy.
Polly has gotten decidedly,
well, bitchy this spring. She squawks loudest to be let out in the morning,
but when we herd them from one pen to the other, she ducks her head, fluffs
up her feathers, and squawks all the way. If we come too close she squawks
some more, and she has taken to helping Eddy chase off the squirrels and
grackles from the birdfeeder (which is fine with me). A few weeks ago
she got her head caught in some vines tangled in the fence while trying
to eat bugs on the other side, and we freed her right away, but our saving
her butt doesn't seem to have made her like us any better. So I just call
back "Shut up, Polly!" and we both go on about our business.
Francie is still the champion
hunter. She has amazing focus on flying insects and will chase them several
yards through tall grass before snagging them. It is quite impressive
to watch.
And Bubble is still Bubble,
marching to the beat of her own oboe. If one duck is taking a nap while
the others graze, or decides to go into the pen for a bath on her own,
or chases bugs while the others hunt, it is nearly always Bubble. We don't
even look for the leg band anymore to identify her. We just say "Hi,
Bubble!" and figure she knows what she's doing. This is what we get
for naming a duck "Bubble," of course.
The changing seasons
We parked the ducks' grazing pen during the winter,
from late October to late March, and used dry leaves and pine straw from
the yard for daytime bedding. Because of the short days, they didn't have
much time to free-range in the evenings after we got home from work, so
we started giving them the run of the yard when we were home on the weekends.
They take care of themselves just fine, and this spring they chased off
a hawk who thought he'd spotted dinner. When all seven ducks fluff up
their feathers, flap their wings, and squawk like crazy, I'd take off
in a hurry, too.
When it grew warm enough for grass to grow
back where they'd destroyed it in their grazing pen we returned to the
summer routine, moving the pen around the yard
every week and re-seeding with crimson or white clover. They do make a
mess, but in this rainy spring the clover sprouts within a week and grows
back strong within a month or so. They find enough bugs, slugs, and worms
during their free-range time to keep our food costs down.
Their feathers have faded markedly over
the past ten months (as you can see in the photos, below). They seem to
be getting ready to molt, but I gather they are waiting for hot weather
to set in. Normally by the end of May we'd have had a good hot day or
two, but it's been a cool, wet spring, so the molting is yet to come.
Photos
Click any of the photos below for a larger image.
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Hunting
for bugs in the new growth of clover. |
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