- Jul 11, 2017
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I had nineteen ducks until yesterday morning, now I have four. Not something I ever wanted to say. A mink got into the coop early in the morning and killed 15 of them, injured two, caused one to hurt herself, and left a single duck unscathed. I’m devastated. Somehow though, it’s the unscathed one I’m most worried about. I’m not surprised she survived as she was always the toughest of the lot, but she’s almost 11 now and has been shaking a lot since the attack. The two injured ones and the one that I assume hit her wing on something flying or running from the mink are doing considerably better, and all are chatting away as usual, but my old girl hasn’t stopped shaking and doesn’t like to sleep unless I’m near her. Thankfully that’s easy right now as we’ve brought them inside until they’ve recovered and the coop is secure; and ideally, until that mink is dead. But I don’t know what to do to make her feel better or if there is anything I can do. None of them will make any noise at all unless I’m there either, because even though they’re indoors I think they’re scared of drawing more predators. It was an absolute bloodbath and she was the mama of most of the dead ones. Ducks probably don’t remember that stuff, but we’ll never know for sure. One of her babies survived, but she’s 7. My oldest male also survived, he’s hurt the worst of them all; and one more male, whom I never really got close to. I don’t even know where to go from here. I’ve had an attack before, but they still had each other and there were only two killed. I think they know that they’re all that’s left. I can’t even put into words how upset I am. I had two that weren’t even a year old that I raised myself indoors over the winter last year and neither made it. The runt I had to hatch myself because her beak and legs were too weak and small but made it anyway. She would get so excited when I cracked an egg for them. She was always the first one to it. Another one loved when I’d get a bowl of water with some food in it because she liked to fish for it. One was always way louder than the others. She would always start that constant squawking whenever she saw me or heard me outside. Or the one that liked to sit in my shovel whenever I took a break from scooping because that’s where all the best worms were, I guess. I’m sorry for ranting but I’ve got no one to tell and no one else ever really knew them like I did. I miss them already. But if anyone has any advice on how to help the ones that survived in any way, I would really appreciate it. I’m just at a loss. Thanks for listening if you made it this far. I’m crying just writing this.
