By Mike Donahue

Moapa Valley Progress

You Can Learn A Lot From A Duck:

Experiential learning is learning through observation and interaction with the world around us. There is no teacher per se and the depth of learning depends solely on the sense we make from our direct experience.

Wikipedia cites David Kolb, an American educational theorist, who says that in order for experiential learning to occur the learner must be willing to be actively involved in the experience; the learner must be able to reflect on the experience; the learner must be able to use analytical ability to conceptualize the experience, and the learner must have decision-making and problem-solving skills so he/she can actually use the ideas gained from the experience.

All that seems a little deep, but what it really means is, “You can learn a lot from a duck.”

A few weeks ago I was out feeding our animals when I noticed a couple of brown ducks waddling up and down a pasture fence line. The ducks were keeping pace with three mares that were inside munching grass. As the mares strolled along the fence eating, the ducks would shuffle along keeping them company with an occasional quack, quack.

I at first thought the ducks must be ill because they didn’t fly as I approached but toddled away maintaining a constant distance. I finally decided they looked healthy enough and probably just wanted some equine company so I ignored them and they ignored me.

The next day I discovered the ducks had deserted the horses, bypassed the pig and ambled over by our flock of chickens where they set up housekeeping.

Our chickens live a life of leisure in a couple of homebuilt coops – one big, one small – both of which are located inside a good size fenced run. The chickens get all the food and water they want and we ask only that when it’s cool enough, the hens occasionally lay an egg. Most of them comply. It’s a pretty good deal on both sides. We ask nothing of the roosters, who, naturally, think they’re in heaven.

The ducks apparently felt more at home near creatures bearing feathers instead of hair.

Anyway, by morning of the next day, one of the ducks had disappeared. I assumed, rightly or wrongly, that it had become duck soup for some fat cat, masked raccoon, wily coyote or some other meat-eating creature.

I became a little concerned for the remaining duck so I set out some chicken feed and a large tub with water for drinking, swimming and lollygagging. The duck immediately ate a bit, drank some and then went for a swim.

That evening I watched the duck waddle off to parts unknown where I believed he or she would surely become some hungry carnivore’s main course.

But it was not to be. The duck was back the next morning.

Once again I thought something must be wrong with the duck and tried to approach it but it would have nothing to do with me. It waddled slowly ‘round and ‘round the outside of the chicken run quacking the whole time.

The next few days the duck stayed right beside the chicken run. It ate, it drank, it swam, it slept. It didn’t bother me, I didn’t bother it. I believed its days were numbered and whatever animal had got the first duck was sooner or later going to get the second, which by now was named Quacker.

One morning two weeks ago, when I walked over to feed the chickens, Quacker was no longer in his tiny pool. Fate, I thought, has finally had its way.

Then out of the blue, I heard a familiar quack quack and low and behold there was Quacker inside the chicken run. The duck had somehow, for whatever reason, gotten inside the cage.

Sometime ago we lost a couple of hens to a family of raccoons, so we diligently shut the chickens up at night in the coops. Well, I thought, when I let those chickens out that poor duck is going to be toast – or at least pate for the toast.

Chickens are very territorial they’re not going to stand for some oddball duck invading their home, I thought.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Those chickens took to Quacker like a … well, like a duck takes to water.

Quacker eats their food, drinks their water and swims in their water trough – and the chickens don’t care. And, believe it or not, Quacker is beginning to act like a chicken.

I trap roaches every night in coffee cans and then feed them to the hungry fowl each morning. At first, when I sprinkled the insects around the run with the chicken scratch, Quacker would sound off and head for a neutral corner.

Within days, however, Quacker was not only eating the scurrying bugs, the duck was actually competing with the chickens to see who could get the most.

At night when the chickens have all gone in to roost, Quacker sits outside and LOUDLY laments his missing buddies. Once I shut the doors, however, Quacker quiets down for sleep.

The other night one rooster stayed up late and Quacker followed him around and around the little coop until he finally went in to bed. I’m not sure about their relationship but Quacker doesn’t seem to care there’s a difference between them. Apparently it’s a difference that doesn’t make a difference. In Quacker’s book, no harm no . . . er, foul? fowl? Whatever.

If I’m late letting the chickens out in the morning, as soon as Quacker hears one of the roosters inside, he’s answering every crow with a quack. Quacker will continue to sound off until his (or her) buddy comes out.

Experiential learning is learning from experience.

What have I learned from the duck? Tolerance, acceptance, benevolence, patience, consideration, charity, altruism and more. What have you learned?