mbadeline
Hatching
- Mar 12, 2015
- 4
- 0
- 9
I'm sorry for this downer of a tale, but I really felt like I had to get it out in the open and out of my system.
So, back in early March I purchased 10 Cayuga duck eggs offline and ended up incubating the 11 that arrived. It was my first time incubating, and I was very attentive and tried the best I could after researching extensively. By lockdown time, there were only three eggs left developing, which I had mentally named and grown attached to. None hatched. I'm still not sure if it was disease or maybe unsteady temperature due to a crappy incubator, but after 30 days of wishing and praying and hoping for those baby ducklings I was left with three little eggs to bury in the backyard.
So naturally for a few days I was very sad and disappointed in myself. I didn't want to be responsible for the lives of any more baby ducks, but my mom went and ordered 5 pre-hatched ducks, 3 Cayugas and 2 Welsh Harlequins. One Wednesday morning after we went and picked up three dead ducks and two little survivors from the post office.
Seeing the ducks that didn't survive the journey was sad, but we set about making things the best we could for the little Cayuga and little Welsh Harlequin we had. We named them Basil and Taquito. I became their primary caregiver, and spent hours staying home from school and then after school attending to them, socializing them, and falling in love with them. Both were so sweet, but I grew especially attached to my Cayuga, Basil.
Around a week later, there was a day of beautiful hot weather and we took the sister ducklings outside for a little while to show them the great big world. They were adorable, and would run after us on little feet as we led them around the yard. A little later in the day, on the second trip outside, they were doing just this when Basil ran with a spurt of speed in front of my little sister. My sister, not seeing her, kept walking. She stepped on Basil and must have injured her internal organs badly, because shortly after scooping her up to let her hopefully rest and recover in the brooder she died.
Now we are left with Taquito, who won't stop crying out in little peeps that are heart wrenchingly lonely. She is only content when someone is holding her, and I'm worried that she won't get enough to eat because of her constant need to try to locate Basil. I feel responsible though people tell me I shouldn't, and I'm just hoping that when the three replacement ducklings arrive this Thursday that they can bond with Taquito and comfort her.
So, back in early March I purchased 10 Cayuga duck eggs offline and ended up incubating the 11 that arrived. It was my first time incubating, and I was very attentive and tried the best I could after researching extensively. By lockdown time, there were only three eggs left developing, which I had mentally named and grown attached to. None hatched. I'm still not sure if it was disease or maybe unsteady temperature due to a crappy incubator, but after 30 days of wishing and praying and hoping for those baby ducklings I was left with three little eggs to bury in the backyard.
So naturally for a few days I was very sad and disappointed in myself. I didn't want to be responsible for the lives of any more baby ducks, but my mom went and ordered 5 pre-hatched ducks, 3 Cayugas and 2 Welsh Harlequins. One Wednesday morning after we went and picked up three dead ducks and two little survivors from the post office.
Seeing the ducks that didn't survive the journey was sad, but we set about making things the best we could for the little Cayuga and little Welsh Harlequin we had. We named them Basil and Taquito. I became their primary caregiver, and spent hours staying home from school and then after school attending to them, socializing them, and falling in love with them. Both were so sweet, but I grew especially attached to my Cayuga, Basil.
Around a week later, there was a day of beautiful hot weather and we took the sister ducklings outside for a little while to show them the great big world. They were adorable, and would run after us on little feet as we led them around the yard. A little later in the day, on the second trip outside, they were doing just this when Basil ran with a spurt of speed in front of my little sister. My sister, not seeing her, kept walking. She stepped on Basil and must have injured her internal organs badly, because shortly after scooping her up to let her hopefully rest and recover in the brooder she died.
Now we are left with Taquito, who won't stop crying out in little peeps that are heart wrenchingly lonely. She is only content when someone is holding her, and I'm worried that she won't get enough to eat because of her constant need to try to locate Basil. I feel responsible though people tell me I shouldn't, and I'm just hoping that when the three replacement ducklings arrive this Thursday that they can bond with Taquito and comfort her.
