
![]() |
When hatching day came, Velma possessed 7 eggs and Tica had 10 eggs.Â
I think.Â
I’m unsure because during the entire incubation period the expectant mother Muscovies kept trading—or more likely stealing—eggs from each other.Â
One morning I found the ducks hovering over their nests rather than sitting flat—a sign the eggs might be hatching.Â
Sure enough, when I pulled out a warm egg, I spotted small cracks at the larger end. Holding it to my ear, I heard soft peeps and scrapes. Known as “pipping,” this signals the duckling’s imminent arrival over the next 12 hours or so.Â
   Â
Amazingly, all but two ducklings heroically chiseled out of their eggshells at about the same time, meaning the girls had begun incubation simultaneously (what a team!).Â
Velma and Tica kept stealing the two remaining eggs—and their ducklings—from each other, shifting them gently from nest to nest. After everybody emerged, I found Tica hovering over both broods while Velma ate from the food dish.
I needed to move the ducklings to an adjacent pen, where they wouldn’t be bothered by the other fowl, but I worried about putting both females in with them. Although Muscovies make dedicated mothers, they can step on and accidentally crush their babies when disturbed.
Â
Studying the moms and their little bundles of fluff, I observed that Tica, the younger duck, seemed more enthusiastic about the whole mothering thing than Velma.Â
Every time I came near, Tica lowered her head and gave me a menacing hiss, while Velma seemed more concerned about making up for lost time at the food dish.Â
My oldest duck at 6 years, Velma had experienced the joys and frustrations of motherhood a number of times, so maybe she felt burnt out. I decided to give the babies to Tica.
I caught Tica up and moved her to the next pen, then whisked the adorable ducklings into a hay bucket and transferred them into their new “nest.”
As inevitably happens whenever I move moms and ducklings, Tica became frantic. She desperately looked for a way out of the pen, back to her old nest, ignoring the babies right beneath her beak.
“Your babies are right there!” I told her.
After much persuasion on my part, Tica finally got a clue. Oh! There they are!
Meanwhile, Velma had discovered HER babies were missing. Furious, she paced outside the pen door, squeaking up a storm. The next day, even though I plied her with treats, she still hadn’t forgiven me.
Oh well, you just can’t please everybody.
Happy beginning of summer!
~Â Cherie