Yes, it’s a proper word. I didn’t make it up, but I wish I had. Quanked is in the 1893 Glossary of Words Used in the County of Wiltshire. It means overpowered by fatigue. They didn’t say emotional exhaustion, but I’m not alone here. I needed a word that was as old as I feel.
It’s the Fourth of July weekend when all patriots with animals stay home and worry. This year is special. Colorado had the worst snowpack in years. Red flag warnings all winter long, after several years of extreme drought. It feels like half the state is on fire. High winds on hot, cloudless days. So much smoke in the air that there is a layer of ash everywhere, but we must stay vigilant, sniffing for local fires amid traveling smoke. I spent a small fortune on fire mitigation for my farm, as worried about the barn as those who live in it. There is a ban on fireworks, but I worry. Call me a cynic. Humans are reliably stupid.
If that isn’t enough, we have been heckled with minor health issues. Nothing serious, just low-level aggravation. Jolene was spayed this week. Her stitches are clean and no swelling, but her cone bangs into everything, and it’s too small to fit a toy inside. She has to stay in the house with no zooms at all, but she has been great. Call it a Cone of Fame. She would like you to know that her neck is itchy.
The stitches from my Mohs surgery were removed, and two days later a vast hole sprang open on my forehead, spewing a rainbow of disgusting liquid colors. The hole is big enough that I’m considering getting a third hearing aid for it. My doctor put me on antibiotics. But no worries. Jolene and I take our pills with treats.
Mister was feeling a bit left out, so his eye infection came back. He sits very still while I clean his eyes. He likes this part. The ointment goes in, and I gently massage his eyelids together. We gaze into each other’s eyes like the old lovers we are. I have done nothing wrong, but I apologize to him. Mister has all day to listen to sympathy. Jolene thinks sympathy is for sissies.
I am at the age that several of my friends have become pickleball freaks. I get it. Tennis was something I did when I didn’t have horses. I had a wicked backhand. Pickleball is good cardiovascular exercise, they say. A game of strategy and finesse, not to mention a whole new social circle, they say. Considering how I feel about my own species these days, probably not a good time to take up a racket sport.
The pickleball zealots got me thinking about my personal pickleball equivalent with the same benefits. I looked at my anti-aging tonic, who immediately barked back. Jolene doesn’t know about her surprise. At the last herding lesson, someone asked the instructor if she would start to work this year’s lambs soon. She said yes and added that she’d be letting some of the older ewes go. I sat up and started nodding yes before she finished her next sentence. Before I knew what I was doing. As if I don’t always know what I’m doing.
Dog-trained sheep are not so easy to find. Beginners like Jolene and me need someone who knows the ropes. We also know they might not be the easy ewes. Or the pretty ones. They will feel right at home with us. We are not dink bunnies here. (That’s pickleball slang)
Jolene and I definitely need more practice. But with no sheep, how does that happen? It’s a catch-22. I’m hoping the instructor will help us out here, too. It could work out because it will be a couple of months before the sheep come, which is good. Rule #1 in herding is to be a good steward of the stock. I know some about sheep and have had llamas and goats on the farm. I have fences to build and some rearranging to do.
For those of you who wish I was still writing about training horses like I did for 15 years (search topics here), and are hoping I’ll get over the dog thing soon, fair warning. It’s about to get even worse. Worse than sheep, you say?
I have a weird kind of patience. It only exists when I am working with an animal. The rest of the time, it’s hit or miss. So I was obsessing about the old ewes the day I ordered the ducks. Because they will take longer to be ready to herd, but we can start sooner. Flawless logic.
If herding sheep is an ancient folk dance, then herding ducks is like a romantic waltz. Subtle, calm, and so lovely. Sure, Jolene hyperventilates when she sees the ducklings, and I still trip over my stock stick. But girls like us need a goal.
We ordered six of the Indian Runner mixed-color assortment. I’ve ordered unsexed before and it was a bloodbath, so no drakes. The eggs are just as good. Folks say runners look like penguins, but Lara says they look like folded umbrellas. She is right, but they flock well and run rather than waddle.
The ducklings arrived by express mail the day after they were born. They looked terribly fragile. We want to think that we can easily win over orphans who never saw a hen, especially when they are this young. Their fear of me was so extreme it seemed violent. They would kill themselves to escape. It gave me pause. So I breathed and let them settle under the heat plate. Ducks respond to human voice, so I talked to them. Kept their box next to me during Zoom lessons. Mister smacks his lips when the ducklings chirp, a herding dog in name only.
The ducks will be dog-trained. That means a lot of handling and also a willingness to come to me and walk close. They’ll need a familiarity with dogs so that they can be moved by dogs, but not terrified of them. I’ve got inexhaustible patience for this. The next day, I chopped up some peas.
I trained my first ducks when I was a teen, but computers exist now. I checked Google for dog-trained ducks. All you get are Labradors with limp ducks in their mouths.
One week later: I check the ducks first thing in the morning and they are visibly larger, at least a half-inch overnight. As soon as they hear my voice, they scream. I peer over the edge, and they run over, tilting their heads and giving me a side-eye. They all shriek at once, DID YOU BRING THE PEAS!? Mister is hangry-quanked. He says, I too like peas.
If my mother were here, she would say what she always said, “Do you know what your problem is?” followed by the complaint du jour. I learned to smile because all my problems boiled down to one problem, and she was right. I just don’t know how to do things half-way. Jolene is happy-quanked. She says, my kinda human.
Presenting Eilene, Arlene, Irene, Earlene, Raylene, and Darlene. They are the Duck-lenes.
PS. A friend and I wanted to donate hay to the evacuated livestock from the fire. We found the right place. Right now, they have all the feed and volunteers they need. I love people.
…
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Women Aging Cantankerously
Yippee! Ducklings❤️❤️❤️ and even more special Indian Runners! I’ve raised ducks but not the Runners sadly, always hankered after them though.
Some sheepdog breeders over here begin their young dogs on poultry. I’m waiting patiently to see the ducks sitting on the sheep😁 as for the names, bravo, hilarious!
Best wishes for happy healing for you all, of course things run in threes.
As for wildfire etc and damn fireworks, ugh. Prayers no harm occurs.
Thanks, Annie. These are our kind of ducks. I find so much difference in how dogs are started depending on breed and their herding method. I’ve seen border collies started as pups with poultry. Thanks for the good wishes about the fires. I’ve followed some big ones there in Australia, too.
Hope you are all three feeling better and healing well. I’m not surprised by your getting sheep, LOL. It will make a big difference in how your herding progresses. Herding ducks is different and fun, they are characters! I’ll have to share your post with Jess, she’ll be jealous!
Ha! thanks Linda. We’re all fine and relieved to be on this side of the spay. Thanks for seeing the absolute necessity (?) of our actions!
Just relating to every impulse, logic and choice! Very envious of those runner ducks,…. Much appreciation, Anna. 🩵
Thanks, Mary. I have had several flocks of ducks in my life, but always wanted runners.
“Considering how I feel about my own species these days, probably not a good time to take up a racket sport.”
I laughed out loud at this…
patti, you might not be pickleball material either!
This was such a great story in so many ways, but the Duck-lenes made me laugh.
They make me laugh, too! THanks Susan
Why is it when S**T happens it seems endless at the time?? Things have been rocking along just fine and then all of a sudden, the wheels fall off. Freezer dies, fridge is making a noise, all the belts on the lawnmower self destruct (lots of complications there), a horse with stifle issues gets cast and spends too much time down just beyond my sight range and in high heat conditions. Fortunately, she’s ok now but the lawnmower is still problematic. Freezer got replaced and the mess the old one made got cleaned up. Fridge got a part replaced – no more noise.
Love ducks. I have always been partial to Mallards and never tried runners – Khakis, yes.
No health problems for me – yet… Derm appt next week and going to ask for a thing on my face to be removed – maybe.
And life goes on…
That is a rant-worthy list. Not that it’s too much for you to handle, but that it got stacked up!! And I almost got khakis… But glad for these girls and looking forward to the eggs!
Wishing you all a speedy and comfortable recovery, and safety from the fire danger. We’re in the worst drought herr anyone can remember. Praying for rain.
Got a new crop of chicks by mail in April, after the regrettable coyote massacre of last summer. I forgot how the cute + tiny chick phase morphs way too quickly into the unattractive baby dinosaur era. It seems they do almost nothing besides poop. We’ve finally graduated into the big girl (and boy) coop thank goodness. These are easy and helpful for predators: Solar coyote deterrant
Climate change. I bet you think about if with your work…
Growing up I faced those broody hens and their pointy beaks. They are always dinosaurs, if you ask me. But this coyote deterrant is very interesting. I owe you one.
Hang in there! I’m also sweating the fire danger up here in the foothills. Nothing to do but start packing go bags and hope for the best. Thanks for the laughs in your column! And who knew that the key to a duck’s heart was peas? PS I’m not pickleball material either, for the same reason.
Dear Non-pickleball sister! Thanks, stay safe, and tip#2 Watermelon is the same color as your hand and much more ouchy.
As an RN, I attend an Emergency Medical Conference for first responders every year. One of the topics discussed this year was pickle ball injuries. I wonder if you can guess who is the typical patient?
Ha! Teresa, I looked it up. Who knew? Great comment.
All Right! Love ducks. Long ago – not so far away – where we lived we had a pond, at one time we had 36 large and small Rouen (tame mallards) ducks – all 3 of the females were, shall we say, prolific layers AND setters. It was great. When we moved, I brought Tucker Duck with me. She survived what I think was an attack by a hawk – took a chunk out of her neck – I would take her down to my mom’s & we put penicillin on her wound – which healed really well. She was a sweetheart.
Then, a friend of mine gave me a baby Call Duck. I had him for 11 years – he looked like a kid’s squeaky toy. I could go on, but I wont!
I get duck eggs from my former daughter in law. Pookie (bird) eats soaked dog kibble mixed with hard boiled egg yolks and duck eggs have more yolk than chicken eggs which works out well.
They also make great chocolate cakes – in case anyone is interested.
Sorry for long ramble here.
Duck eggs are the best! And they are bug-eaters. So many good reasons to have ducks.
I have a nuts and bolts question for you, Anna. I’ve enjoyed the comments but now I want to change the settings so I don’t get emails notifying me when anyone comments. I keep unblocking the “Notify me of new posts by email” box, but it keeps re-clicking it all by itself and I keep getting the notification emails. Suggestions?
I think you are saying at the very bottm on the blog page, you have two boxes you might click: Notify me of follow-up comments by email and Notify me of new posts by email. I think you want to click the comments box, not the post box.
If that isn’t working, To stop or start getting email alerts when someone leaves a comment on your posts, log in to your WordPress dashboard, go to Settings > Discussion, and scroll to the Email me whenever section. There, you can check or uncheck the boxes for:Anyone posts a commentA comment is held for moderationClick Save Changes at the bottom of the screen.
Hope that works.
You might want to watch The Sheep Detectives movie. It’s currently in movie theaters and on Amazon Prime.
Oh, Ruth. Thanks for mentioning this movie. Wasn’t it great!! I waited for Prime so Jolene and I could watch it together!
Really good movie – how about that? Uplifting even (well, except for the death).
Yeah, I’m sure most was green screen – I mean, there are a few limits to what sheep (or other animals) really feel it’s necessary to learn in their “engagement” with humans!
It was a feel good event. Made me want to watch Babe again. Thanks Maggie.
We’ve watched it twice on Prime. I also read the book (Three Bags Full) it’s ’based on’. The movie is not very much like the book, but you meet the sheep and get to know them better.
I think we will be circling back, too. Just so pleasing to watch.
Glad you (and Jolene) enjoyed the movie. We’ve watched it 2x and plan to show it at movie night at the place we live. DVD release is scheduled for December 31st.
Anna, when we moved to this property 24 years ago, my then young son wanted ducks. We built a fox resistant enclosure, dug in a 300 gallon stock tank (port-o-pond), and gave our consent for a bakers dozen of ducks. My son ordered several varieties, but the Indian runners were our favorites. They were so sweet and engaging. I envy your new pursuits, and would guess that pickle ball just can’t compete.
Oh Laurie. Thanks. For going full-duck for your son, and you are so right. No comparison at all. Jolene can’t play pickleball.
Was so delighted to see you in my in-box, what a treat unexpectedly hear from an old friend! Love the ducks & dogs conversations and can’t wait to hear & see more about the herding training. I’m also going to enjoy the use of my new word – quanked – thank you for that!
Sueann, I didn’t know I was missing but so glad you’re back. Thanks, and yes. What a word!