Monday, February 1, 2010

ducks are fucking sick.

April 8, 2008 - Tuesday 



DUCKS ARE FUCKING SICK
Current mood: disgusted
Category: Pets and Animals


Ducks are fucking sick. to be quite honest i never gave
too much thought to the habits of the mallard duck in the past,
but just recently my dog and i were leaving my friends
apt. and as we were walking out to the car some sketchy movement 
near the jacuzzi caught our attention.
At first it wasnt clear WHAT was going on. As we crept closer
to the pool area it was possible to see the shadows were , 
infact, three mallard ducks. 
Two of them green headed male ducks and one of them a plain, brown
female.
At first i thought perhaps they were fighting over her and that
she was trying to interfere or something.BUT-why? 
she would most likely fuck ANYONE provided they showed
up on the right day of the season. I mean shes a duck 
for Gods sake.
its not even like they mate for life. it's totally an issue left up to
natural selection
. sO then what the fuck was REALLY going on?
they were for sure not engaging in any kind of everyday duck activities. Not any that I had ever observed anyway..
Knox and i exchanged a glance as i tried to be quiet as i got closer to the strange scene.
The three were traveling back and forth on the ground between
the edge of the pool and the edge of the jacuzzi,
all together in a moving mass of flapping , flopping
wing feathers, shiney ,snapping beaks and stomping,
shuffleing web feet. I noticed that the claws on the tips of the 
webs were making little scratching noises against the
concrete and that as they struggled and manouvered
they were making wierd gaspy hissing sounds and quacking in
low urgent tones. They were seemingly oblivious to any 
audience that they might have managed to attract with their noise. 
They were so wrapped up in their situation that Knox and i 
had gotten very near them without them noticing us at all.
This struggle continued for several more minutes that 
seemed much longer than they really were, i am sure. 
Once or twice i really did consider going back to the apt
to tell them to come outside and tell me what in the name of 
god these things were up to out here. But , in the end 
i didnt do that because of several reasons.
1. None of the wierdos i hang out with are duck experts
or avid bird watchers even
2. Since I am not really what you would call a bird
enthusiast or a nature lover myself, i didnt really want to
look like a fucking freak for standing in the middle of the 
apt complex in the middle of the night spying on a gaggle
of ducks who appeared to be in the middle of some very 
hinkey act. Which brings me to...number
3. As much as i hated to admit it, wasnt willing to disturb
them or miss out on what they did next. I was dying to see
what they were up to. Which by this time ,
i had ascertained was definatly no good. Things had taken a much
more grizzly turn when it became very evident that the drakes 
were both attacking the female. It was like a car accident. 
I could not stop looking .It was totally ugly and unsettling and
probably going to give me nightmares for a week, but it was
not in my power totake my dog and get in my car till i saw....
well, the outcome i guess. But by this time i had a pretty good 
idea about what it would be.

Although i had no explaination for why this was happening to 
begin with. i did not have any recollection of ever hearing of 
male animals attacking females. usually thats not the way 
it works , right? dogs dont do that , cats dont really do that
and i had no reasons to think that ducks were any different.
Then it seemed as though the scene was over as the drakes
both took a couple of steps back from the female who was
now backed into a corner of the fenced pool area. THey 
stood off, staring intently at her for maybe a whole minute,
motionless . she was squatted down,standing as defensivly
a duck could stand, her eyes avidly fixed on her tormentors. 
Her breast and wings were shaking violently and her breathing 
was fast and shallow and harsh , which i realized was the hissing sound i had been hearing before. THey had really fucked her up i could see that they had pulled out her feathers so she was

left with big bald bloody patches here and there

and the pavement was littered with the

evidence. I glanced down at Knox who had shifted in my arms. He looked as baffled and uncomfortable as i felt. i raised my eyebrows at him and shook my head in confusion. We both looked back up at the corner of the pool yard. they were unmoved.They were as frozen in their poses as the ducks in the kitchen motif my mother had adopted for a couple of years in the late 80's. All they needed were the big blue ribbons around their fucking necks.
Another minute or so had passed and just as i was beginning to relax and think about going to my car, without any warning at all, The smaller of the two drakes, struck out at her with one abrupt vicious, pecking movement that made us both jump. As he drew back we had time to see that her eye was gone before she lurched backwards with enough force to put her through the space between two of the bars in the steel fence, flailing and flapping clumsily in her pain and panic. She attempted to make a get away but she was blinded now on one side and she was unwilling to turn her back on her abusers and go all out. Maybe she was aware that her ability to go "all out" had been so compromised that she had no chance like that . Maybe she could sense that reguardless of WHAT she did, she had no chance anyway.
My grandmother had some very colorful,very descriptive sayings that both as a child and as an adult have stuck in my mind and made their way into my everyday conversations. One of these is "like a duck on a june-bug." (*As in "he jumped on that thing as quick as a duck on a june-bug!") i get a whole different picture in my head now when i use THAT one i can tell you.
the two drakes began waddeling after her seemingly in no hurry at all. they were making low fast quacking sounds at each other and wiggling to get through the fence after her. She glanced around desperatly and lurched backwards as the large drake lept at her and began thrashing her with his wings. she suddenly turned to run(or whatever a duck can do) and the drake chased her into a bush next to a patio fence. the other drake went around the outside of the bush and blocked off any escape she might have made the two did some stuff i could only hear, there in that bush with her. All i can tell you is it was a horrible thing to hear and a horrible way to die, i am sure. several minutes later, the two drakes emerged from the bush . they paused and both of them looked around carefully. they walked a couple of paces preened each other , preened them selves. One of them looked back at the bush and quacked. the other looked at him , looked at the bush and then looked back at him quacked an answer preened him a little more in the breast area and then the two of them squeezed back into the pool area and they both went swimming like nothing ever happened. WHAT THE FUCK ? ? ?all i could think as i quietly got my dog and myself home that nite was

"fuck, i guess that will teach HER to hook up with guys she meets on the internet......"


Necrophilia among ducks ruffles research feathers
_____________________________________
Ducks behave pretty badly, it seems. It is not so much that up to one in 10 of mallard couples are homosexual - no one would raise an eyebrow in the liberal Netherlands - but they regularly indulge in "attempted rape flights" when they pursue other ducks with a view to forcible mating. "Rape is a normal reproductive strategy in mallards," explains Mr Moeliker. As he recounts in his seminal paper, The first case of homosexual necrophilia in the mallard anas platyrhynchos, he was in his office in the Natuurmuseum Rotterdam, when he was alerted by a bang to the fact a bird had crashed into the glass facade of the building. "I went downstairs

immediately to see if the window was damaged,

and saw a drake mallard (anas platyrhynchos) lying

motionless on its belly in the sand, two metres

outside the facade. The unfortunate duck

apparently had hit the building in full flight at a

height of about three metres from the ground.

Next to the obviously dead duck, another male

mallard (in full adult plumage without any visible

traces of moult) was present. He forcibly picked

into the back, the base of the bill and mostly

into the back of the head of the dead mallard

for about two minutes, then mounted the corpse

and started to copulate, with great force,

almost continuously picking the side of the head.

"Rather startled, I watched this scene from

close quarters behind the window until 19.10 hours

during which time (75 minutes) I made some

photographs and the mallard almost continuously

copulated his dead congener. He dismounted

only twice, stayed near the dead duck and

picked the neck and the side of the head before

mounting again. The first break (at 18.29 hours)

lasted three minutes and the second break (at

18.45 hours) lasted less than a minute. At 19.12

hours, I disturbed this cruel scene. The

necrophilic mallard only reluctantly left his 'mate':

when I had approached him to about five metres,

he did not fly away but simply walked off a few

metres, weakly uttering a series of two-note

'raeb-raeb' calls (the 'conversation-call' of

Lorentz 1953). I secured the dead duck and left

the museum at 19.25 hours. The mallard was still

present at the site, calling 'raeb-raeb' and

apparently looking for his victim (who, by then,

was in the freezer)."

Mr Moeliker suggests the pair were engaged in a

rape flight attempt. "When one died the other

one just went for it and didn't get any negative

feedback - well, didn't get ANY feedback," he said.

His findings have provoked a lot of interest -

especially in Britain for some reason - but no

other recorded cases of duck necrophilia.

However, Mr Moeliker was informed of an

American case involving a squirrel and a dead

partner, although in this case it is not known

whether the necrophilia observed was homosexual

or not as the victim had been run over by a truck

shortly before the incident.

Donald MacLeod
Tuesday March 8, 2005
guardian.co.uk


The strange case of the homosexual necrophiliac

duck pushed out the boundaries of knowledge in

a rather improbable way when it was recorded by

Dutch researcher Kees Moeliker.
It may have ruffled a few feathers, but it earned

him the coveted Ig Nobel prize for biology

awarded for improbable research, and next week

he will be recounting his findings to UK

audiences on the Ig Nobel tour.



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