So the ducklings started out in the house, stinking up the joint, growing almost visibly every day.
I feared Corinna had been premature when she moved them to the coop. But with the heat lamp out there, they were fine. They have a little porthole to get in and out that we block with a piece of marble at night. There's a bigger door that they use to go back in. Well, this evening we managed to team up and get them to go in the small opening for the night. I was mighty proud.
Well, I was proud because two or three nights ago, I went to try and put the ducks to bed when it was still light out. They weren't having it, no matter the door. If someone had been recording me with a phone, I'm sure it would have been a hilarious video because every time I thought I had them boxed in they squirted through to somewhere else where they'd cheep and wave their tongues at me. And look at me really hard in profile, which is a thing ducks do because their eyes are in the wrong place to look you in the face.
They're gaga over spinach though and we have a bumper crop. I've successfully used it as bait to get them to go places up to a point. They like other greens, they like the chick feed, which is mostly grain with some sand mixed in it. But they LOVE spinach, try to steal it from each other. It's like Cookie Monsters with bills on their faces.
Gonzo, our black cat who's such a good mouser has been an issue. We decided to lock him in Molly's bedroom for the week until the ducks can get bigger because we caught him stalking them. With clear intent. The other cats are mildly interest in the ducks, but Gonzo was clearly on the prowl. I don't thing a five to seven pound adult duck has to worry but these ducklings, I don't know.
He's gotten out a couple of times. My nephew came to check out the ducks over the weekend and he managed to let Gonzo out in his thorough search to find even more animals he's allergic to even if he adores them. Before his mother could even voice an objection he was hands and torso inside the duck coop looking for birds before going on a cat quest that involved all three of our kitties and then checking out the dogs before needing a Benadryl.
I got Gonzo back in his quarters before any ducks were murdered. Then, the next night, I came home and he was out again. I asked Corinna if this was parole or jailbreak, didn't know if she'd decided our Swedes were hardy enough to fend off a Gonzo. She said, "Jailbreak, look."
I should have taken a picture for right here but I didn't and it's dark out now. The cat clawed or chewed his way through the screen window in the bedroom to liberate himself. I don't feel too bad about confining him temporarily for the safety fo the flock but that's a deeply unhappy cat. He's got food, water, a litter box, lots of visitors, but he'll gnaw/claw through the screen to get out.
