We had six Blue Swedish duck eggs from my own duck and drake due to hatch November 5th and 6th. On Election Day we had one duckling hatch; a yellow/grey (will grow grey) duckling which we named Brock (a play on Barack).
The next day we had another duckling beginning to break the egg. Because of the information we had read online we decided not to help the duckling hatch even after 6 hours until our duck expert arrived. We were terribly lucky that this duckling came out alive because it was so dried out.
We ended up cautiously naming this little guy, "Quinn". We were not sure whether or not Quinn would survive because s/he was so dried out due to the humidity in the incubator. We ended up having to douse him in water after he was hatched.
After we took him out of the incubator we did NOT put both ducklings together as Brock was twice the size as Quinn.
The other ducklings did not hatch. It was my elective decision to crack the other eggs open; only to find that every one of them had ceased growing at least a week before hand and were deformed.
Last Saturday we discovered that Brock, our largest duckling had passed away in the night. Our biggest theory is that he died while eating boxelder bugs and chocked on one.
This past week we have been focusing on Baby Quinn and have realized that Quinn has in fact imprinted on me. Its quite humerous and I tend to feel really bad when I have to put him away and back in his brooder.
However, I have noticed that Quinn has an ounce of respect for me when he lays on me and cuddles. He waits to poop until *RIGHT* after I put him on the ground. I consider that a success.
Any who, pictures.
Quinn. Quinn-igan. Quinnie. Quinnie-poo. (Whichever name fits my mood.)
and our baby Brock, who passed last Saturday.
Daddy (Harper, the black drake) and Mommy (Emery, the grey duck)
The next day we had another duckling beginning to break the egg. Because of the information we had read online we decided not to help the duckling hatch even after 6 hours until our duck expert arrived. We were terribly lucky that this duckling came out alive because it was so dried out.
We ended up cautiously naming this little guy, "Quinn". We were not sure whether or not Quinn would survive because s/he was so dried out due to the humidity in the incubator. We ended up having to douse him in water after he was hatched.
After we took him out of the incubator we did NOT put both ducklings together as Brock was twice the size as Quinn.
The other ducklings did not hatch. It was my elective decision to crack the other eggs open; only to find that every one of them had ceased growing at least a week before hand and were deformed.
Last Saturday we discovered that Brock, our largest duckling had passed away in the night. Our biggest theory is that he died while eating boxelder bugs and chocked on one.
This past week we have been focusing on Baby Quinn and have realized that Quinn has in fact imprinted on me. Its quite humerous and I tend to feel really bad when I have to put him away and back in his brooder.
However, I have noticed that Quinn has an ounce of respect for me when he lays on me and cuddles. He waits to poop until *RIGHT* after I put him on the ground. I consider that a success.
Any who, pictures.
Quinn. Quinn-igan. Quinnie. Quinnie-poo. (Whichever name fits my mood.)
and our baby Brock, who passed last Saturday.
Daddy (Harper, the black drake) and Mommy (Emery, the grey duck)