Chickens and Ducks and Dogs, Oh My! Stories about Life in the Holler

Two Muscovy Ducks with some inquisitive Chickens in the background.

by douglas reeser, late August, 2021

Homesteading and chickens are like pie and ice cream. They just go together. And your really shouldn't have one without the other. Jillian and I have a goal of producing some food on our little piece of land in the woods, but it's a long game for us. Between work and finances, we need to take our time and work slowly. Still, we're making steady progress, and we're certainly learning something every day. And the experiences? Well.... 

Earlier this year, and coming into our second full warm-weather season, we decided to add chickens to the mix here on the homestead. We hoped to let them have free range of the property, but being in the woods on the edge of a state park, we weren't sure how long they would last with the plethora of wild predators around. We're still not sure really, as we have yet to get into the first Winter season, when leaves are gone, the ground often turns white with snow, and food for those natural predators is harder to come by. 

Anyway, we got some chickens. Just four to start, as we see this as a bit of an experiment or learning experience. We found a small used coop online, and plopped the then-teenagers in there. A few weeks later, and they were out and about, roaming the yard, the creek, and the woods, then back in the coop at night for a safe rest. All was going well until one afternoon of craziness. I was sitting at a table by the window, writing a bit, and I heard a big commotion just out of view. I raced out to see feathers everywhere, and the rear end of our neighbors dog, hauling ass back home. 

First, I searched around looking for what I hoped was an injured chicken. No luck, just the three remaining scared girls clucking around, panicked and shocked. I started after the dog, and followed clumps of feathers the quarter mile or so down the creek to her home. She was there, and bounded out of the creek to greet me, but no chicken, and no neighbors. I never did find that chicken.

Later that evening, I went back to the neighbor's house, still a bit hot, and told the old grizzlied owner how their dog got one of our chickens. He was sympathetic, but surprised, and noted, "Well she doesn't give a shit about ducks," as he pointed to two ducks sitting in the creek next to us. The dog just watched with an uncaring eye. Hm. The neighbor agreed to do a better job of keeping the dog at home, and offered to replace our chicken, probably Jillian's favorite. I declined, thanked him, and headed home through the woods. 

By the time I got back to our place, only 5 minutes later or so, there was a duck in our small pond. Yup, one of the neighbor's new ducks flew over. They're Muscovy ducks, and can fly a good distance. I walked over, and noticed the other one swimming in the creek nearby. Funny. A couple days later, and it was clear that the ducks had relocated to our duck-weed-covered mucky little pond. 

I trekked back over to the neighbor's. "We have your two ducks" I told the middle-aged son living there with his father. "Oh, you can have 'em" he replied nonchalantly. "We don't care." So, two ducks for a chicken? Not a bad deal we supposed, especially if one or both of the ducks turned out to be female. Maybe we would get duck eggs! 

A couple of months later, and no duck eggs yet, but the story doesn't end that simply. The day after the ducks moved in, Jillian headed out to visit them, and there was one missing, along with a bunch of white feathers floating in the pond. A quick search, and she found the missing duck. It was intact in the brambles, but missing one thing: its head. Our farmer friend said it's common for owls to eat the head of birds, so we chalked it up to losing one to the local wild life. We walked the body out into the woods, to a spot that houses a fox den, and left it there as a snack for the foxies - or at least a couple of the hundreds of Vultures roosting on some nearby cliffs. 

We also freaked out a bit, as we now had a "sitting duck," a lonesome duck floating around the pond - and a deadly predator that knew it. So we went on a frantic search for another coop for our lonely duck. This time, we found some friends with an old beat up coop, sitting unused in their yard. After some repairs, it was serviceable, and we set it up next to the pond. Buddy hated it.

If you're keeping score, we're now down one chicken, but plus one duck. We determined it was probably a male duck, and we felt bad for the lonely fella. The chickens weren't treating it very well, kind of ganging up on him and bullying him. We decided that we should probably get a duck friend for our endearing friend, Buddy. 

A day or two later, we're at lunch with a good friend, telling her the story of our chicken and duck adventures, and she gets pretty excited. "My in-laws live right up the road, and they're selling ducks!" We ask for a large box from the cafe, were given an empty napkin box, and then headed over to the in-law's farm. Sure enough, they had teen-age Peking ducks for sale for $5 each. We picked one out and brought it home to meet her new brother, quite excited at our good fortune.

Not so fast. The older duck hated this new young thing, and started squawking and biting at it. We realized we would need to keep them separated for a bit, maybe until they were of equal size. I cobbled together our third pen for the new ducky with materials we had around the homestead. As dark was falling, we gathered the two ducks and got them into their new little homes, much to the chagrin of Buddy. We left him hissing and angry in his new pen next to his hated new sibling.  

The next morning, we let Buddy out of the pen for the day, and go about our business. Later in the day, Jillian goes to check on them, and Buddy is gone. She comes running back to the house, clearly upset, "I can't take this! Let's bring back the baby duck and be done with the ducks!"

So we box up the young Peking duck, and drive her back to the farm to rejoin the other teenagers. She blended right in, and we even got our $5 back. On the drive home, Jillian was a bit sad and disappointed. "I really liked those ducks," she reflected. And they were kind of cool, all white Muscovy ducks with some personality. They would wag their tale when you approached, eat out of your hand, and even let you pick them up and hold them. They even coo instead of quack. But maybe ducks weren't quite our thing yet. 

At least until the next morning. On her way to let out the chickens, Jillian noticed something white over in the pond. It was Buddy. He was back, wagging his tale, hoping for some treat worms. Jillian was happy. And a bit flabbergasted. And we were back to three chickens and a duck. At that point, we decided to go with it, and after a couple of weeks, there seemed to be an equilibrium in this set-up. The chickens even seemed happy, and they started spending time on the edge of the pond, looking for worms and bugs, and clucking at the duck. All was good.

Or so we thought. A few days later, there was a commotion out near the pond. The chickens were going crazy. This time, we were both home and both outside. I jumped off the deck and sprinted down to the pond, yelling the whole way. I got there to all kinds of rustling in the brambles, and then whooooosh! The neighbor's dog launched out of the brambles right into the pond. It's mucky, and she struggled to get out. Jillian arrived, and we're both yelling at the dog. It finally gets itself out of the muck, turns tail, and runs for home. 

It's quiet. The duck was just calmly watching the whole thing from a log in the pond, even with the dog landing in the water just a couple of feet away. Two chickens were still scared and nervous, walking around in circles in slight shock. One chicken is missing. We started looking around. No signs of her. No feathers, no body, no chicken. Ugh. 

I marched down the creek to the neighbor's and start calling for someone inside. The doors and windows were all wide open, but nobody responds. I circle the house, but it seemed like nobody is home. The dog saw me, and still scared, took off down their long driveway, away from home. Oh well. 

I walked back, angry and sad, and knowing Jillian is going to be a bit upset. She mostly cares for the fowl, and has started to become close with them. I got back, and she's still at the pond, soothing the chickens and duck. We looked around a bit more, but nothing. 

Then... a rustle in the brambles. Some movement. And suddenly the chicken appeared at the top of the pond bank, limping, dropping a trail of feathers, and clearly dazed. She was bleeding under her wings, but not too bad. We cleaned her up with some peroxide, wiped away clumps of feathers, and tucked her into the coop, hoping she'd survive and make it through the night.

And... the little trooper made it! After a couple of days of recuperating in the coop, she was out, limping around with her sisters. Just a week or so later, the two uninjured started laying eggs, and then a week or so later, the injured girl started laying too. The chickens still visited with the duck, bully him a bit, but ultimately offer some fowl company.

We stuck with the three chickens and a duck set up for a few weeks, but still worried Buddy the Duck was lonely. The chickens do their thing all day, and head to the coop each evening. They give us three eggs a day, which is just about perfect for the two of us. The duck does his thing too. He goes somewhere each night, and we're not sure where. He flies up on to the roof of our sheds and house sometimes, and sleeps up high. Other nights, he goes somewhere else.

After those eventful few weeks, it was a fairly consistently normal over the next few. The emotional ups and downs calmed, and the chickens and duck have settled into a routine. We haven't seen the dog again. Yet. And the local wildlife isn't yet hunting during the day. Yet. Then, we get a missed call and frantic text. 

"Call me! It's time sensitive!" 

Turns out, our friend Kevin has a duck in his kitchen. He found it dazed, walking and flying up and down the road in front of his house. And it was a Muscovy! An hour or so later, and the two ducks are meeting at the pond for the first time. They immediately started wagging their tales, and then started doing what must be some kind of secret Duck greeting, dipping and crossing their heads at each other in unison, cooing the whole time.

And so, we have two ducks again - Buddy has a friend. We woke up the first morning to the two fast friends hanging out on the roof outside our bedroom window. Then, waiting for the coffee to finish, two kittens appeared, with one running in and out through house in a panicked frenzy. A Great Blue Heron got startled and took off out of the creek, a baby Ground Hog peaked its head out from under our annex building, and a sleek and speedy Hawk flew overhead. 

It's starting to feel like a freakin' zoo around here! 

We'll see how these birds do over the Winter. Fingers crossed they make it!