I’M JUST DUCKY

Tags

#babies, #california, #duck, #duckling, #ducklings, #duckrescue, #duckwhisperer, #growingup, #mallard, #mallards

In the late spring, I was heading back to work after lunch and saw a mama duck crossing the road with 13 ducklings. Two of the ducklings seemed much weaker and were kind of flopping along. Of course, I did what any normal person would do: I stopped traffic and tried to shoo the mother and babies out of harm’s way.

This is completely out of character for me because I’ve been horribly afraid of birds since childhood, when my parents’ roosters would attack us. This fear was furthered when an uncaged, large, pink kind of parrot in a pet store started flapping its wings and hissing at me when I walked by. Since then, I’ve been terrified of birds and have kept my distance.

Although keeping my distance, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to the babies, so I had to step outside of my comfort zone to get the ducklings to safety. A neighbor stopped to help. Mama duck got nervous and started zig-zagging all over the road before jumping over a curb and onto the grass. The baby ducks were trapped in the road, trying to jump up after Mama duck but unable to get over the curb. I asked my neighbor to lift up the ducklings. The neighbor lifted the weakest flopper first and put it on the grass. As my neighbor went back for more, the weakest duckling, who I quickly named Nester, tried to get back to his siblings and fell off the curb upside down, flopping in the street.

“Nester!” I screamed, horrified to see the little thing flopping about helplessly but too afraid to go lift it back up. My neighbor went to help Nester again, and all the ducklings and Mama eventually got safely across the street and to our association’s pond.

The baby ducks became my new obsession, fear or no fear. Every day I would go to check on them, often twice a day. Each day, their numbers dwindled. Nester and the other weak duckling were the first to go. The babies quickly began to recognize me and would come running.

Sadly, their numbers dwindled from 13 to 4. Apparently, ducklings are pretty low on the food chain. Every day I went to visit them, and every day their fat, little bodies came to me in a running waddle. If you’ve never seen a duck run, it’s pretty darn cute.

There was one duckling that I often saw biting the butts of adult ducks when they tried to take her food. This duckling had a mind of her own, and she was very independent, often straying away from her three siblings. I named this duckling Saucy because she had such a saucy personality.

One day, as I took my daily photos of the babies, Saucy reached up and nipped one of my fingers that held my phone camera. She had no fear! It didn’t hurt, and I think that’s when I got over my bird phobia. Well, maybe just my duckling phobia. This was very fortunate, because a new batch was just around the corner.

When my baby ducks were about four weeks old, I pulled out for work and saw another mother duck on the curb as her 13 babies struggled and flopped about, trying to get up. Again, I stopped my car in the road, but this time I had no neighbor passing by, and there were no oncoming cars to flag down for help. It was either let the babies wander back into the street and risk someone hitting them, or I would have to man-up and help them over the curb.

I timidly approached, unsure as to whether the mother duck would be defensive and attack me. I was sick to my stomach with fear. As I neared and knelt down next to the bunch of babies, I slipped my hands under a light-as-air bunch, closed my eyes in case Mama came after me, and lifted the babies up. There were a few stragglers I had to chase down, but I got them all over the first curb. I felt so empowered!

Ignoring traffic driving around my car on the side of the road, I followed the ducks to the next curb where I again had to man-up and help them over the curb. Again, I timidly reached out and helped the struggling fluff balls up and onto the grass.

As I watched their little waddling butts disappear towards the lake, I felt as high as a kite! I’d done it all by myself! I’d conquered my fear of…baby ducks.

I tried to befriend this second batch of ducklings like I did the first batch, but they were sorely lacking in gratitude, and they kept their distance. Their numbers quickly dwindled until there was just one fluff ball left. I named him Peeper because I could hear him peeping a block away. Sadly, Peeper, too, was gone after just a few weeks.

As the original four ducklings grew and their fluff turned to feathers, I knew it would not be long before I wouldn’t be able to recognize them unless they were running after me, which they often did if I didn’t see them or if I was distractedly visiting a friend.

A neighbor told me that one morning she had baby ducks knocking (pecking) on her sliding glass door.

“Uh, I don’t know where they got that idea,” I said sheepishly. It sounded like the baby duck version of “Salem’s Lot.” As I tried to push my dog stroller away from them and Mama and babies chased me in a super-fast waddle, I imagined writing a horror movie called, “When Baby Ducks Grow Up.”

Every night at 7:00, I would walk to see my baby ducklings, and every night they would come running. That is, until one week in early September. That week, everything changed. As I sat on a rock talking to them, no ducklings came running to me. They were oddly skittish. After much coaxing, three took short flights out of the water to see me. I gasped. “You’ve learned to fly!” I exclaimed. Saucy sat alone on the water, throwing me suspicious looks as the others danced around me as I spoke to them like some kind of duck whisperer.

“Come on, Saucy,” I prodded. “You’ve known me your whole life. Don’t be afraid.” But Saucy, who had once boldly nipped at my finger, now wanted nothing to do with me.

I was about to give up hope on Saucy and leave when she flew high out of the water, circled above me, and then returned to her spot on the water. Saucy could fly better than the other three by a lot! But she still didn’t trust me…or maybe she just wanted to show off her flying skills.

After they learned to fly, the ducklings became more and more skittish and less willing to leave the water. Then I noticed their mother was not around as much. She had a new boyfriend she was waddling with. My babies were scared and alone.

A few nights later, when I went to visit my duck-kids, I only found three, and they were mixed in with a couple ducks I hadn’t seen before. A few nights after that, I could only spot two for sure, and they again were skittish.

Something had changed in the duck world. Maybe they were making new friends because their mother cut them loose, maybe they’d started dating, or maybe they’d grown up and were ready to move on without me.

Saucy has still remained a loaner to this day, while the others have paired up with mates. I feel Saucy and I have something in common, and she is the only one who still watches for me and flies over. Since the other ducks pick on her, I try to have my quality time with Saucy in a secluded spot. Now, when I go to visit, Saucy and the other ducks are around less and less as the seasons change; and I realize that, one day, Saucy won’t be there.

I know I’ll never see my four babies and Mama duck chasing me down the sidewalk again, and it breaks my heart. I guess I thought they’d remember me their whole life and come running when I called them. Apparently, that’s not the case. My babies have moved on to new things, and maybe it’s time for me to do the same, but I’ll always remember the four little fluff balls that conquered not only my fear but my heart.

Below I’ve attached some baby duck pics, including the pic of Saucy nipping my finger. I’ll post the video of Saucy flying on my Facebook author page and maybe another video or two.

May you all find pieces of nature that will melt your heart and help you conquer your fears.