2nd-hand duck

Thought he was a goner but the drake came back… kinda.

I noticed him sitting a few feet from his girl and paused in my excitement and relief as he didn’t look quite right. I slipped my sandals on and went outside, finding that I could walk right up to him and pick him up. Previously you couldn’t get within ten foot of him, and if you did you’d risk having your arm broken by a lightning quick strike propelled by his powerful neck muscles.

He’s kind of the right colour but there’s no substance to him anymore – he’s lost about half his body mass, his feathers are tatty and there is a big bald patch in the back of his neck. He was also covered in some sort of dust and visibly shaking when I put him down in the spare chicken tractor with a pile of food, a bowl of water and a toboggan as a makeshift pond.

His girl is relieved to see him though, as the conjugal visit shows below.

Now if we could only get him to talk we could figure out what happened to the other two roosters. Unfortunately ducks are notoriously tight-lipped – there’s no way he’ll be ‘singing like a canary’.

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