The other afternoon, I was outside feeding the gang and trying to ‘herd’ them into their yards (I always have trouble with either Daffy or Pearl), Ming came home from milking the cows next door and did it in five seconds flat. He is a much more assertive ‘herder’ than I am.
The birds are wise; they obey his every ‘vroooooom’! If I were a bird, I would too.
Daffy: I’m scared, Bubble. Godfrey is approaching me.
Bubble: Stand up straight, Daffy, and he’ll have much more respect for you. Oh, and if he speaks to you, answer in a loud voice, not your usual whisper.
Godfrey: Good afternoon, young man.
Daffy: GOOD AFTERNOON, SIR!
Daffy: Wow, that felt good and he just walked past me – he didn’t tell me off or anything! I just wish I could have looked him in the eye, but I’m too frightened.
Bubble: I can give you daily lessons in eye contact beginning right now, Daffy. Okay, now look at me and try not to blink.
Daffy: I did it, I did it, Bubble! I looked Godfrey straight in the eye for a whole minute. He was asleep but it still counts for my certificate doesn’t it?
Bubble: Well done, Daffy, but I will need to give you a few more lessons [sigh!]
I have spent copious amounts of time (well over my usual 15 minutes!) researching what kind of duck Disney’s Daffy was/is, all to no avail. Unless I’m wrong – which is quite possible – Daffy is not one particular breed or another; Daffy Duck is (just) a duck.
The reason I embarked on these minutes of research is because our male Indian Runner duck reminds me of Daffy.
For this reason I have decided to call this duck (drake I should say!) ‘Daffy’. Until now, he and his ‘wife’ haven’t had names because they only just escaped being obliterated by the fox that killed the other Indian runners, so I have always just call them both ‘Duckies’. I didn’t want to name them in case I lost them – I hope that makes sense!
Daffy is the one I rescued from the fox the morning of the massacre. The fox had already killed several chooks and ducks and it had its jaws around Daffy’s neck when I ran out and scared it away. Now Daffy can’t quack properly. His wife, who I think I will now call ‘Dotty’ (not to be derogatory, but they are actually not the most intelligent of breeds!) is never far from his side. Here they are venturing into the ‘bath’ after everyone else is finished. The other ducks and geese will have nothing to do with the Indian runners. I don’t know why although, as I’ve mentioned before, Daffy does occasionally exert a bit of surprisingly fierce amourosity towards the Sebastapol geese. I wish I could get a photo of Godfrey chasing Daffy chasing Diamond but it’s always short-lived with Daffy well and truly banished to the outskirts!
Daffy and Dotty are so intimidated by Godfrey and the rest of ‘the gang’ that they live completely separate lives; they even have a separate pen because Godfrey is so horrible to them. When I let them all out in the morning, the gang follow me for the lettuce treats but Daffy and Dotty go in the opposite direction because they are so scared of Godfrey!
Hence, I am unable to hand feed these lovely Indian Runners unless Godfrey isn’t looking; it has to be quite secretive.
I will try their new names out today!
jmgoyder 