These poor little ducklings lost their momma to the swather. Eldest son, A., was out swathing hay and accidentally killed their mother, but noticed that the ducklings were alive so he called for his wife, J. to come get them. She in turn came to get me. We decided that we ought to be able to do something to save these nine little ducklings so we went up to the hayfield and gathered them into a box to take home.
At first we thought we might put them in with the chicks. We tried it and the ducklings immediately wanted to follow them around, instantly imprinting with the sound of the chicks' voices. The chicks didn't appreciate having cousins around that wanted to tag along bothering them so they pecked at them to try keep the duckies away. We realized this idea would not work.
So we decided to drive them out to one of the close-by stock ponds to see if we could find some duck families there that might adopt these fuzzy peepers. Yes, there were. We saw one pair swimming peacefully on the pond and so we decided to put the duckies near the water, but not too near, to see if they might hear the other ducks and go to them.
Here is where we left them, all huddled together. I put my hands over them and blessed them and said a little prayer that God would watch over them and give them a new mama and daddy duck to take care of them. Then we left.
After our lunch, about an hour and a half later, I just couldn't resist going back to the spot where we left the ducklings to see if they might still be there or if they may have joined a duck family.
As I drove up, I saw two pair of mature ducks swimming.
"Good," I thought.
"Good," I thought.
I walked down to the spot and the nine little ducklings were gone.
"Thank you, God," I whispered.
I don't know if they found a duck couple to take them in, but I trust that they did.
I trust God that they will have ducky happiness.