The first thing I saw was my baby duck dead, upon opening the pen this morning, I thought, crushed by the pig. I pushed everyone out as I searched for the other 2 babies. They were no where to be found. I started crying, or rather screaming. I do that. Especially when faced with the thought that something got my babies. Billy comes running and I explain, meanwhile Mom and Dad geese are having their own trauma while they transverse the whole yard in search of their young. I recover and realize mom and dad are pushing the ducks off their nests looking for the babies. I went back to the one baby and looked closely at the wound and discovered it wasn’t a crush but had two puncture wounds on its chest. OMG! A ferret or mink got them. Billy thinks rats but I think the wounds were too wide spaced. Possibly even a possum or skunk. What ever it is; I need to build something impenetrable to small rodents and then some how train the geese and ducks to bring their babies there to sleep. Crap and meanwhile do my housework, books and I’m low on duck food, I need to go shopping and there is so much laundry. With this nice weather it can go on the line. I wish Bernard would stay out of the bed, He is such a mess. I really need a vacation.
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