The Country Mice

So here’s how we looked at about 9.30 a.m., after power-cruising the giant fairground where the Mount Forest Fur & Feather Fanciers Show was set up.

Looks modest enough, doesn’t it? A couple of hemlocks nicely framing the collection at the end a busy morning… mmmmmm, so bucolic.

Just not enough room for an emu, Mary.

When we arrived back home and began unloading cages, it felt like a cross between Christmas morning and buyer’s remorse.

What was it we got again?

Ah. Right.

It’s all good. tho’.

Here’s a pretty trio of Indian Runner Ducks.

The one closest, with the necktie, is one we hatched under a chicken two summers ago. That’s an interesting story on its own. For another day.

The egg had come from this very fair — albeit from a different farmer.

These Runner ducks have an upright posture, you’ll notice, and lean forward when they move, like a slightly tilted bowling pin. And they don’t walk, they run.

If you saw the movie ‘Babe’ you’ll remember the duck Ferdinand who flew to the top of the barn every morning to wake the farm with his “crowing.” If you’ll recall, Ferdinand was a New York-accented neurotic who was understandably worried about ending up as Christmas dinner. His stressed-out countenance was underscored by his frantic running hither and yon.

Now we have three of those.

The female has the white patches and the drake is pure chocolate. She quacks, he whispers. Honest. That’s how to tell them apart.

Eventually the drake will also acquire a single curled tail feather. That’s the other way to tell them apart.

Honest.

Here’s another pretty bird.

He’s a Mille Fleur Belgian d’Uccle bantam — Mille Fleur for short.

These chickens are especially sweet and docile and are among my favourites.

Look how beautiful he is!

Our Mille Fleurs have feathered legs and feet, which I love, a single comb, and have reddish-bay feathers that are tipped in white. Their colours should improve as they age.

Not exactly a ferocious peregrine falcon.

And his partner, pretty in pink. She’ll lay small buff-coloured eggs in a few months.

And me? What about me?

I’m pretty too, right?

Are you ever going to talk about me?