Mocha, on her first day swimming in the little pond, April 23

I don’t assign human feelings to animals.

Despite the Disney love affair with anthropomorphism, and my personal respect of the work of Dick King Smith, (The Water Horse and Babe, The Gallant Pig)  animals are animals and humans are humans.  If anything, humans are more likely to affect animal traits than vice-versa. That said, I do believe  animals can offer us insight into the world we live, and one personal example is the Black Cayuga Duck I gave the name “Mocha”.

From the beginning, the ducks were a surprise addition to Two Mile Ranch.  And while the drake “Gilbert” always regarded me with a compelling stare, “Mocha” was different, and special, from the get go. When they were just a few weeks old,  as they grew in the tiny cage in the cabin, Mocha tended to lie down more than the other ducks, but Mocha also tolerated being held more, too.

During the early days of living in the pheasant fly pen, before they had a pen of their own, it was clear that Mocha had physical challenges:  she was an awkward and clumsy runner.  She manged on her own and became the leader of the ducks.  I share with you the life lessons I think she had to share with me.

• Do the best with what you have and you will get where you are going. Mocha struggled on land to walk.  I don’t know if she had a physical defect, a neurological defect, or a vision defect, but she walked in a very awkward way, often not in  a straight line.   Mocha always got where she was going.  With or without the others, at Duck :30, or any time she felt like it, Mocha could easily find her way from the pen to the pond and back again.
• A leader doesn’t have to lead everywhere or all the time.  Mocha was often the last duck to the pond.  But on the water, Mocha was in charge.  Mocha often led the others from feeding spot to feeding spot, and unlike the odd, non-straight line path on the ground, her water routes were straight.  She was also the strongest swimmer.  At the first sign of trouble, the other ducks would swim towards Mocha.
• Don’t be afraid to be different.  Mocha was … Mocha.   She would often lead the herd of the 4, then 3, now 10 ducks.  But just as often, she would walk back to the pen on her own, or stay on the pond longer than the others.  Just the other night, she stayed out nearly to dark, the others had returned, and I chased her off the pond and carried her back to the pen.   I wrote an email to a friend about the duck’s reaction using inside jokes between us.  It was funny….Mostly, Mocha was funny and made all my days better.

So here’s what happened today: The past few weeks, I’ve been letting the 1o ducks out each morning to free range all day.  Days I was here, I would watch over them , days I was gone, they were on their own.  Amazingly, like chickens, they had learned to put themselves to bed each night.  Last night, for example, they were in their pen when I got back just before dark.

This morning, I woke, did chores, collected the duck eggs and discovered one of the younger runner ducks has begun laying.

I let the ducks out of the pen, and my last image of Mocha was her walking straight toward the tall grass, so she could feel her way along the edge to the pond.  I left around 8 this morning and returned around 6 tonight.  When I parked the truck, I saw the floating shape in the pond and knew one of the ducks was dead.  I quickly looked over the duck and chicken pen.  All the ducks, were gone, and 5 of the little chickens had escaped their pen.  So first things first, I rounded up the eloped little chickens.

I walked to the pond to confirm the obvious news.  What I saw was was inspiring and curious:

The other 9 ducks were standing guard at the pond edge.  Mocha’s body was about 15 feet off the edge.  The ducks stood there, almost at attention, until I put the rowboat into the water.  Then, they walked back to their pen.  I collected her body, examined her wounds, most likley from a snapping turtle.  I  felt the rigor in her body that suggested she had been dead, and the other ducks had been loyal, for  hours, waiting for my return.

I buried Mocha next to Gilbert, where they can both watch over the little pond.  It’s odd, but the ducks and chickens were usually  quiet tonight.

My friend Lori and I were exchanging emails about another duck situation earlier today and tonight when I told her the news.  She wrote back:

the ducks are so much more than the ”dumb birds” people think they are. The way they stand guard and stick together is really amazing. People could learn a lot from ducks. People could learn a lot from a lot of things if they took the time to pay attention.

I am sad tonight, if you don’t understand why, that is okay.  There are life lessons we can learn from ducks.  And I hope I can continue to follow Mocha.  Even though she was a pet, and it was my responsibility to protect her, a life on a pond, where she could eat, swim, preen and bask in the sun was a greater life than a life in a pen.  Even if it included the risk of being attacked by a predator.  A caged duck is a prisoner, not a pet.

As humans, we  too,  have choices: to live in a safe cage as a prisoner, or to thrive free with risk……do we want to hide, or do we want to follow Mocha?

The Duck : 30 video is repeated below:

The 4 black cayuga ducks of Two Mile Ranch can get on and off the little pond by themselves.  Getting to the pond, has never been a problem, getting OFF the pond was a curious time.

First, for just a few hours, and they stayed close to the edges.  I could pick them up from the side.

Then, I had to move on to wearing my waterboots, the ducks would slip away and swim to deeper water when I wanted to take them off for the night.

From there, it was a short hop tome wearing full chest waders, herding the ducks, trying to convince them to go in.  Ultimately, I ended up in the small boat Chase and I built, herding them around the pond and then steering them out.  I asked around and unlike chickens, ducks don’t usually put themselves to bed each night.  And then, an amazing thing happened.

The ducks started to get out on their own each day. First it was every other day of me trying to herd them in, then it was pretty regular: when it is duck :30 — a time decided upon by ducks in their own duck fashion, they get out of the pond, walk up the hill to the cabin, and wait for me to heard them back to their pen.

Gilbert, Indiana Quackers, and Duck Vadar wait at the waters edge while Mocha swims

The drake duck is Gilbert, and he leads Indiana Quackers and Duck Vadar  around the pond most of the time.  Mocha, who has either a vision or neuro problem, doesn’t walk well and is often on her own, but is the on-water leader most of the time.  If there is trouble or concern, the other three usually turn to Mocha for leadership. Often, this means, if Mocha doesn’t want to come off the pond, the others will usually not come off either.

When they do walk back, often Mocha leads, but sometimes the others lead.  Gilbert, the drake, walks and then remembers he’s supposed to establish his dominance, so he nips at my pant leg, left, right,left,right….and then goes back to walking.

This is a video of them on their walk Friday evening at Duck :30. It begins with Mocha in some tall grass. Gilbert, with the  greenest head, charges the camera in the middle, and in the end, he is the last one through the pen gate.