While in college I lived for awhile in a group farm house along the Black
river south of Olympia. One sunny January day I decided to work on the old
boat that was turned over on the lawn. I flipped the boat over and staring
up at me was an American Wigeon. It had been wounded, I suppose during
hunting season and was quite unable to do much. Not knowing what to do I
went to the barn and got a mixture of the various chicken, cow, rabbit feed
we had and placed it under the boat and then returned the boat. That wigeon
lived in our yard for the remainder of that spring, after awhile it became
sort of like a farm duck and would follow the chickens around. You could
never quite get close enough to actually pick it up and apparently it could
not fly. It was very engaging however and would tilt its head and mutter,
wag its head up and down and pip and was high on the pecking order among the
chickens who gave it plently of space. When I would go out to feed the
chickens I would bring it rabbit food, which it liked the most, and it
always gave its lilting piping call when I approached. Then one day, it was
gone. I like to hope it finally flew away. I moved away and several years
later I heard a story from a farm resident about a wild duck that came back,
about two years after I left, and lived among the chickens during hunting
season. Every time I hear that call I am reminded of that duck and my days
on the farm.


Rob Sandelin
Naturalist, Writer
The Environmental Science School
http://www.nonprofitpages.com/nica/SVE.htm
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