Each afternoon I let the chooks and ducks out into the house yard for a few hours of scratching around searching for delicious little morsels. They can only have this short time out in the yard because I have to lock Cleo and Marlowe in the laundry at the same time so they don’t find delicious little morsels in the shape of chooks or ducks.
Before I even get to the chook yard the feathery inhabitants are gathered at the gate waiting for the opportunity to go forage. The braver hens wait right at the gate, the drake and three ducks tend to start out right up against the gate, but as I approach they work their way to the back of the queue while the newer, Silver Laced Wyandotte hens, hang back a little further and wait to see if the braver hens once again survive walking past me as I hold the gate open for them. Only one brave Wyandotte has the courage to walk past me most days. Once those that are going have passed me I put a brick against the gate to hold it open and go into the yard to collect the eggs and clean the water trough. This is when the rest of the Wyandottes and the ducks make a break for it and race past me and out the gateway.
In winter, after scratching around for a while and enjoying the extra space and grass, all the chook yard inhabitants return to their yard, find their favourite spot to settle down and are ready to go to sleep. This usually happens around dusk every day. In summer, they are locked up long before sunset, which is a much more energetic experience for all concerned, because none of the poultry is willing to come quietly while there’s daylight left. Sometimes in winter, when I'm busy inside, I miss the sun beginning to set and have to go out to the yard with a torch to count heads in the dark. Everyone is always there so it's not a problem. Sometimes the ducks are wandering around close to the gate, but waiting for me to appear before they go in at the very last minute.
George, my elderly Chinese Silky has moved out with the big girls now that her friend Emu died a few months back. Prior to this neither George nor Emu would have anything to do with the chooks outside their yard. They objected to any chook, apart from Monster, the rooster Emu hatched and both Silkies mothered), visiting their yard. Once George was all by herself, she moved out to the main yard for the company and settled in, bullying the bigger girls for their treats and generally ruling the yard. The only worry I have is that George goes back to her yard to sleep in the box there. She roots on top of a cleaned out chemical drum rather than the roosting pole I made especially for her, and ignores the straw I've laid down in the box to help her keep warm.
All the other chooks and rooster snuggle in together in various spots around the nesting boxes in the main yard, and generally keep each other warm. The ducks bed down in one of the nesting boxes, all snuggled together as well. Poor little George is by herself on these cold nights and looks very lonely. I've discussed the matter with her a few times, suggesting sleeping with the big girls would be much warmer, but George refuses to sleep anywhere else. I worry that she's not warm enough in that lonely box, with just her own feathers to keep her warm.
I let the chooks and ducks out into the house yard yesterday as usual. When it came time to count heads, it was dusk, but night was closing in quickly. Everyone was present and accounted for as usual. I was worried about George in her lonely box and had the bright idea to use some curved plastic thinga-ma-jigs I had lying around, to drape over the end of her box where she sleeps. This gave her more protection from the cold wind. George just huffed and fluffed out her feathers, but she wasn't worried about my building this makeshift wind guard.
The four ducks on the other hand, who were not even in George's yard but quite a distance away, decided whatever it was I was doing was terrifying. They took off at a run and ran out the still opened gate. I hadn't thought I'd do more than count heads so I didn't bother closing the gate while I was in the chook yard. I had my torch with me and called Graeme for help when I found the ducks had totally disappeared in the gloom as soon as they ran out the gate. Graeme came to help and we spent more than two hours trying to find them.
We located three of them reasonably quickly but the fourth had disappeared entirely. In the end, after a long, fruitless search, peering under bushes and shaking branches to try and dislodge any ducks hiding there, Graeme thought to let the three ducks we’d returned to the chook yard out to see if they went to wherever the fourth duck was. Well, that was a good idea in theory but in reality we ended up losing another duck to the night. By this time the sun had set, the wind was biting cold and the battery in my torch was giving out. I returned to the house for another torch and some woollen fingerless gloves.
Graeme had found the two ducks and we tried to round them up, but the drake bravely did the fake broken wing thing to attract our attention while the duck escaped. I was watching the duck as she ran past towards me, but then she just disappeared. I have no idea how she did that. The ducks are all Khaki Campbells so blend in really well with their surroundings. Graeme returned the drake to the yard and we both scoured the area where the duck was last seen. I now believe that particular duck has magic powers and simply disappeared, without even the puff of smoke, and materialised somewhere else in the yard. It is the only explanation. She certainly wasn’t anywhere near where I saw her disappear.
With a total of one drake taken prisoner and three ducks still on the run, I let Marlowe out of the laundry to help find the other three ducks. I told Cleo to stay where she was The night was freezing with light showers making it all that much worse and her old bones didn’t need to be out in that type of weather. I told Marlowe that this was his moment. It was freezing cold and the ducks were lost in the wilderness of the garden. This was what the monks on the Great Saint Bernard Pass bred his ancestors to do! OK, it wasn’t skiers, or even ducks, lost in the snowy Alps of Switzerland, but there were still enough similarities for Marlowe to channel his ancestors and rescue the misguide ducks and return them to safety.
Marlowe jumped about with excitement while I explained his mission and rose to the challenge, tail wagging. He followed me to the last known sighting of any of the ducks. He managed to find two very quickly – nowhere near where we thought they’d be. We managed to catch one of them - Marlowe was disappointed that he wasn't allowed a catching role in this escapade, but he put his nose to the ground and tried again. Sadly, Marlowe didn't have any more luck after that, though not for lack of trying. I think with the number of times Graeme and I had roamed around the entire yard, looking for wayward ducks and the number of times said wayward ducks had scuttled about avoiding us, there were too many scent trails for one young Saint Bernard to sort out.
After two and a half hours of freezing weather and misting rain, we decided to leave the last two ducks outside for the night. The dogs were let out for a chaperoned toilet break, but locked in the laundry all night. I hoped and prayed that local foxes didn't discover the ducks' hiding places.
Bright and early this morning Graeme went out to see if he could find the two errant ducks. Some time before Graeme went looking for them they had decided to come along quietly and both miscreants were waiting at the gate for him to let them back in. Graeme held the gate open for them and they waddled in, to be met by the delighted quacks and quick grooming from the drake and duck who’d spent the night in their normal sleeping quarters.
When I went to feed the chooks and ducks this afternoon, I'd already decided that I wouldn't be letting anyone out today. The chooks would just have to live with my unilateral decision and enjoy the treats I’d brought instead. In the end, my decision didn't matter. The ducks, who are usually waiting at the gate to be let out, where as far from the gate as they could get. They didn't venture closer even when I cast the chook scraps and sunflower seeds out for everyone. I don't think any of them enjoyed last night's adventures. I know I certainly didn’t.
