
Several days back we looked out and suddenly found mallards out there on the pond, after having them all disappear sometime in July I believe. This was noteworthy by itself, to a small degree, but there was an aspect that made us a little excited, in that, some of them might have been ‘ours.’
You see, over the summer we raised a trio of orphaned mallards and, well, no point in repeating everything that’s in the video…
So, some clarification that didn’t make it into the narration. The mother that we found was definitely killed by a predator of some kind, since she was missing her head, and we have no idea whether she only had a brood of three or if some of the siblings had fallen prey too. After having seen how the red-shouldered hawk decapitated one of the visiting wood ducks here before eventually making off with the carcass, we consider that supporting evidence for what happened to the mother of these, especially since this was right at a crossover path between a nicely sheltered wetland marsh and the river itself; it might have occurred on their very first day out of the nest.
Our biggest concern was that these orphans grew up healthy and without developmental problems, since they weren’t getting exactly what they would in the wild nor following their mother around, so we made sure to have a balanced diet and provide exercise. Another concern was how well they would fend for themselves without learning anything from their mother or a proper foster, but that proved to be unfounded: they appeared to have all the instincts that they needed right from the start. And finally there was the possibility that, with only being around people, they would ‘imprint’ and never become truly wild nor capable of fending for themselves, and we would end up with a set of habituated resident ducks, which we were prepared for even as we tried to ensure that it didn’t happen. All told, it went almost entirely without any issues at all and they seemed to thrive quite well until they left out on their own.

The most amusing bit, in retrospect, was that we went to a lot of effort to provide an enclosed section of yard and pond, complete with a ‘coop’ roosting box that I constructed for them to spend the night safe from predators – and they refused to have anything to do with it. We spent a few days trying to get them comfortable with both the coop and their enclosure, and it was stressing them out more than anything else. Curiously, they did the first couple of days foraging around half-heartedly in the enclosed section of pond, and then abruptly become almost terrified of it and couldn’t even be herded into the water – that’s what you’re seeing above. The best we can say is that something spooked them, whether it was a snake or a turtle or what – nothing sizable should have been able to get into the screening that I’d set up and we had no dangerous turtles in the pond regardless, plus we were out there with them a large portion of the time and saw absolutely nothing. They remained quite wary of the pond for weeks, insisting on overcrowding that little trough that you see in the video, before suddenly deciding the pond was okay after all, and after that they behaved a lot more like proper ducks – that’s them on Duck Island below.

It’s funny – we know we’d like to see them again, just for the sake of it, but there’s one bit that we don’t miss, The Girlfriend especially, and that’s the amount of mess they made. Ducks shit constantly, everywhere, and cleaning their playpen, and later the entire porch, was a twice-daily routine, carrying all of their pans and the entire liner of the playpen out to be hosed off while they cavorted in their water trough or went exploring. It generally took the both of us, and on two occasions when one or the other of us had to travel overnight, the one left behind was juggling these tasks. But there was another little bit too, just a burning curiosity. Ducks get their adult plumage around September, and by this you can differentiate the sexes, but ours left before that happened, so the entire time we knew them only by their juvenile plumage and thus no idea what sex they might be, though we had guesses based on size and behavior; we just never got to find out if we were right.

Now, the reason none of this appeared on the blog is that, technically, we weren’t supposed to be doing this; while I used to do wildlife rehabilitation years (decades!) back, I was licensed under the organization, but never on my own, and both state and federal permits are required for this. The park ranger was okay with it and admitted that the ducklings would simply be released on their own if we didn’t take them, a sure death sentence at their age in an area rife with predators, yet it still wasn’t legal and I wasn’t setting a good example for the behavior that I encourage. It’s well over now, and with a species that is domesticated in large numbers anyway, so I doubt there would be repercussions.
This was The Girlfriend’s first exposure to wildlife rehab, but honestly, these guys were easy. Most other birds are extremely high maintenance, often requiring feeding every half-hour throughout the daylight hours, while for mammals it’s every four hours, around the clock. Circumstances where the animals don’t survive (or develop serious problems) are fairly numerous, proper diets can be tricky and critical, and one has to be prepared to see all their efforts end up in vain. Monitoring their growth was rewarding and encouraging, but seeing them fly for the first time was a strong indication that everything was going quite well.
By the way, not too long after they learned how to fly, still not landing as agilely as they could, they were out with us for the morning exercise and cleaning session and, with no warning or provocation, abruptly took off, flying together in a straight line way down out of sight about three houses away. We had no idea what provoked this, and we ended up cruising around the neighborhood trying to find where they went, afraid they might run afoul of a dog or simply traffic (though there’s practically none in the immediate area.) We saw or heard absolutely no sign of them, and returned with The Girlfriend fretting that they were gone for good, but 45 minutes later I heard them quacking for attention outside my window, right alongside where they’d left from. For the next several days, they made it a point on their own to maintain visual contact with us regardless, which told us that the excursion stressed them out a little bit. This was well before they even met the wild mallard seen in the video.
So, if we ever determine to a reasonable extent that any of the mallards now visiting are our former charges, you’ll know about it. But as I said in the video, this was the goal and an ideal outcome for them, so we’re good with it. And I’ll close with my favorite photo, the one that I call the album cover:

… and I’m sure you didn’t miss my foot in there…