A week or so later, however, discouragement reigned. The veins we saw the first time had turned into dark blobs; the air pocket was getting bigger.
But Audrey knew she was no expert on candling or on the hatching of duck eggs, so she left the egg in the incubator. Then, one night at supper, she thought she heard a squeaky little peep.
That's enough to make an animal lover freeze her fork in mid-air and listen again. She DID hear a squeaky little peep. Since she had read that ducklings have serious issues if they are raised alone, she peeped back at it.
"But not very much," she told me. "I would have peeped more but I kept cracking myself up, squeaking encouragement to a duck egg."
Maybe it was a good thing Audrey peeped, since it appears that it is a lot of work to pry oneself out of an egg.
One wing out. |
(Thank you Erica, for these great photos!) |
Whew! The whole process took about three hours of stretch and struggle. |
But Audrey has a few other things going on this summer, and can't really be full-time Duck Mama. She made some phone calls and located a man raising ducks not too far from here. He has lent Audrey a duckling friend for the summer.
Now Buford and Abernathy--those are their names--live happily in a box on my kitchen floor. Buford, Audrey's original duckling, hatched on Wednesday of last week. Abernathy popped out on Friday.
Until they grow up a little, they'll live safely indoors. But when it rains, they get to go outside and play in mud puddles,
Abernathy (left) at 1 day old; Buford at 3 days. Photo by Audrey. |
and splash around with their outlandishly oversized feet.
I just heard Merrill say she's trying to potty train Abernathy, and that it isn't going very well. Isn't that odd? Stay tuned.........