Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Bon Voyage, Pearlie Mae.
Grendal is now off her nest of clunkers. She came out of the nesting box loaded for bear and aimed straight for Alfie. She pulled his head feathers; she jumped on him and bit him; she chased him around the yard. In my best anthropomorphic manner, I imagined she was giving him hell for not providing the 'necessary ingredients' for fertile eggs. In his defense, he is just a year old and not likely to be up to the task in the first place. That does not, however, mean that he is not enjoying the process, if you catch my drift. She had been setting on them for a month and a half and, recently, a crushed, rotten eggshell was found discarded outside of her nesting spot every other day or so. There were two suspicious specimens left in her nest so I made the executive decision to cease incubation. I have closed off access to her nest and will deal with the stinking mess another time. It'll go right at the top of my to-do list. Not. Dottie's eggs came to naught as well. Looks like next year will be the year of the ducklings. Let's hope Alfie sees the light by then.