Friends old and new
August 16, 2025
What a month it has been. Highs, lows and everything in between.
Work
To begin with, my work contract was due to end next week. I have a wonderful manager, and a lovely team who have become quite taken with all the duck stories, and as a result, now have a permanent job. I would have enjoyed a year off to finish my degree, work on the land and play with the animals, but it’s also nice to be able to potentially retire a bit earlier, and have a stable job in unstable times.
Goose
We came home one evening a few weeks ago, a time when we’d normally have closed all the animals into their beds, to find Goose missing. Goose was part of our original trio of ducks, the rescues. Db found her in a patch of grass, lying flat on her tummy and struggling to breathe. We took her into the hut with us, snuggled up in some towels, and sat with her while she died. I think this is the worst animal loss we have had, and the one that has hit the hardest. Goose lived with us for a year and a half and spent every day with her husband Geoffrey and her wife Ava. She was loved by everyone, and she loved everyone back. She had long summer days splashing about to cool off, and rainy evenings having so much fun playing in big muddy puddles that she had to be enticed home with mealworms. She loved rootling around in the long grass for slugs, and that one time, a frog. Her favourite kitchen scrap was carrot peels, and she was the only reason I ever bothered peeling them. We have no idea how old she was when she came to us, no idea why she was rescued, and no idea really what breed she is from. She was a great duck, and is missed by all of us - especially Ava, who spent two days calling for her.
This puts somewhat of a rush on merging Doris, Gladys and Enid with Geoffrey and Ava. Two is a bad number of ducks and I’ve spent all week securing fences, reinforcing edges and building a hoop coop for the chickens, in order to give the ducks more space.
Turkeys
On Wednesday afternoon, db and I were sitting working when we heard the geese screaming. Not just one or two honks, but really aggressive screeching, followed by a ‘cooey!’. We went outside to see the commotion, to find Davey the sheep farmer. He told us he had a wee present for us, and brought out the two turkey poults we’ve been expecting! They were meant to arrive in July, but as we have inconsistent access to electricity, we didn’t want to commit to day old turkeys and instead waited until they were 6 weeks old. They were in rough shape after being bullied by the rest of the flock as runts, missing quite a few feathers, and speckled with blood in places. They have beautiful dark eyes, and beyond looking just prehistoric, they are somewhat ethereal. Four days on they are unrecognisable, chatting away, gaining weight, growing feathers. They walk about nibbling on grass, eating flies from the air and generally just doing turkey things. I believe animals come on better when they have names. This could be down to us treating them differently once we’ve named them, some type of empathy through anthropomorphism, but whatever the reason (even if just my own bias) we’ve named them Mrs Pumphrey and Mrs Hall.
Pullets
We recently took a trip to the folk museum. It was amazing and might now be on my list of favourite places in the whole world. We left feeling very inspired, with some of our ideas challenged, but many reinforced. All of the animals they had there were heritage breeds, and a number of them were native. This went on to solidify a discussion we have been having around our animals lately. As far as chickens go, we’ve only ever had rescues, and hybrids. The rescues are often ex battery Rhode Island Reds, specifically bred to lay as many eggs as possible in 18 months, then slaughtered when no longer viable. I have been reading a lot about long term health of domestic birds, and have made the decision to never get a hybrid again. We don’t need our girls to lay eggs every day, the whole way through winter, then watch them deal with reproductive issues for the rest of their (probably short) lives. We have decided to switch to heritage and mutts only, focusing on long term flock health, favouring fair rather than prolific layers. We found a local farmer who specialises in healthy heritage breeds, who get plenty of time out on grass, unlike a number of other poultry breeders; we were considering buying from one such breeder recently, only to watch an interview with him where he proudly stated that his birds have never ever been outside. Anyway, this weekend we got 2 Araucanas and 2 Welsummers from this very pleasant and knowledgable farmer, who gives his birds plenty of outside time and seems to care what home they go to. I made sure to source Auracanas with their rump intact as I have no interest in making a bird suffer for the sake of tradition. The Welsummers have been on my list for a while now as I’ve only ever heard lovely things about them, and they have gorgeous speckled eggs. They are prized for their beautiful lacing, friendly manner with other birds, and ability to cross breed with other coloured layers to get any number of speckled egg colour varieties. They are younger than we were expecting, at only 16 weeks, and we will likely not get any eggs until the late Spring, but that’s okay, we’re not in a rush.
Chuck the duck
Each day, Kiki and Chuck have been flying into the field beside their run. This is grand, we have wanted to let them out to free range, but Geoffrey still cannot be trusted with Kiki, so Geoffrey and Ava go to hang out around our vegetable garden, and Kiki and Chuck fly into the next field. One day, Geoffrey somehow made it into this field too. I was very concerned there would be a fight, but as Kiki was sleeping on top of the hutch - much higher than Geoffrey can fly - Chuck and Geoffrey ended up waddling off together like two children on their first day of primary school. They spent all day foraging together, and eventually I managed to entice a reluctant Geoffrey back into the field with mealworms. Each evening, Kiki manages to fly back over the fence to get to bed. Chuck, being quite a bit heavier than Kiki, either cannot, or will not fly back over the fence in the evening. At first I was able to hand feed him mealworms before quickly snatching him up and over the fence, but as Muscovies are really clever, he quickly caught on and by the third evening wouldn’t come near my hand while on opposite sides of the fence. This is kind of annoying, because they have no food or water in that field (other than forageables) and I hoped it would make them more likely to fly back over. Instead it just means that when they do come back, they gulp down violent amounts of water, and eat ravenously. Reluctant to allow Chuck to get eaten, I have had to climb over the fence and into the field every night this week, and have a showdown with Chuck. He flaps the whole way along the fence and is very fast. The first night it took me ages to catch him, scared of hurting him. The second evening I chased him until he gave up, lying down on his front and spreading his wings like a white flag. By the third evening, he put up a 1 minute fight before seemingly understanding that he has to go to bed, after which he sat down like a lamb and let me pick him up. I cherish these moments because Muscovies are not cuddly ducks at all, even when you raise them from ducklings. While holding him to my heart, carrying him back to the pen, I get to give Chuck an extra wee stroke, tell him I think he’s fantastic and that I’m only trying to keep him safe. He huffs back a bit but doesn’t struggle. He’s probably telling me he thinks I’m a dick and that I’m ruining his fun, but I can’t speak duck so I’ll never know.
UFO
Finally, a few mornings ago when I was filling everyone’s pools with fresh water, I saw a funny looking flying… thing. I thought it was just a pigeon, as we have a pair that live in the nearest tree to said thing. Unable to see it, I assumed it was in fact the pigeon, and that it had gone back to its nest. I looked for another few seconds and it re emerged! As it got closer I realised it was a heron! Flying easily, legs tucked, huge wingspan, and it flew over my head high in the sky. Of all the bird sightings this summer, this has to have been my favourite.