Eye of the Storm
Are ducks smarter than you think?
Robbis Storm

Everyone know ducks are birdbrains -- right?

Sure looks that way sometimes -- especially when they act like they have feathers where they need gray matter.

I mean, ducks act dumb.

Shoot -- If they were cowboys, they'd spit upwind. They'd drink downstream from the herd. They'd probably leave their spurs on when they squat around the fire.

If they were people, you might hear jokes like this: "A Wood Duck stands on the north side of a chain-link fence. A second duck -- let's say it's a Mallard -- is waddling along on the south. "Yo Dude! How do I get to the other side?" squawks the Woody. "Other side?!" quacks Mr. Greenhead. "How dumb can you get? You're already on the other side!"

And what if ducks did puzzles? I can just hear one crosswordsolving Merganser asking another, "What's a four-letter word for web-footed waterfowl? Let's see -- it starts with a 'D' and ends with a 'K.' Help me out here -- I'm stuck."

"But I'm not convinced they're as dumb as they let on. Miriam and I have firsthand knowledge. We've had a pair of wild Mallards that have laid claim to our back yard. They've been nesting here for at least six years, and so far they have not produced a single live duckling. Not one.

Last year I joked that Mr. and Mrs. Mallard ought to start writing cookbooks that featured duck eggs and heirloom tomatoes. (The recipes would naturally be written in "Critter" -- intelligible to reptiles and small mammals.)

The thing was -- we often got more thrill than we bargained for when we went out to harvest our tomatoes. Mama Mallard had made her nest underneath our prize Brandywine. The nest became a regular stop for a fivefoot chicken snake and that clutch of eggs didn't last long. Not a single egg survived.

One year the Mallards chose to nest in our boathouse. Miriam tenderly arranged some boxes to give maximum privacy and protection to the little waterfowl. It was no use -- an opossum found the nest and made short work of it, leaving the dock floor festooned with bits of egg shell and duck down, all glued together with dried egg yolk -- my goodness, what a mess!

Once again, not a single egg survived to hatch. And this year? Well this year, maybe it's going to be different.

This year, the ducks are acting really dumb -- laying eggs out in the open. Sometimes on bare ground. Sometimes on flat boulders. Sometimes we find an egg or two out on the wooden planks of our dock, totally unprotected from the sun or from predators. Might as well hang up a sign (again written in "Critter") "Free Duck Eggs. Eat all you want." Seems like they're acting even more stupid than usual.

But maybe not. Maybe it's a ploy. A ruse. A stratagem.

I think that ducks have learned a lot from hunters. Hunters use decoys to fool ducks. Why can't ducks use decoys to fool -- or at least divert would-be predators? Maybe those unsheltered, unprotected, uncamouflaged eggs are sacrificial decoys -- red herrings to throw snakes and possums off the trail of the real nest. And I know where that nest is.

Just the other morning, Miriam said, "Honey -- look at this." She pointed underneath a squash plant. There, nestled neatly under the huge yellow blossoms sat Mama Mallard, so well camouflaged it took real imagination to see it was anything besides the straw mulch we use to keep our garden plants cool and moist.

But there she was. When the duck left the nest, Miriam counted at least 10 eggs. These eggs were well protected. Hidden. Hard to find. This might be a strategy that works -- especially if the other critters are thrown off the trail by all the eggs scattered around laying about in the open. I hope it works.

I hope we get to see a whole bevy of baby ducklings headed down the path from our garden to the water. And if it does, I'll be the first to apologize. Maybe Mallards have joined the ranks of the clever, wise and knowledgeable. Let's hope!

A former Lampasan, Robbis Storm is a world traveler and restaurateur. He can be contacted via e-mail at RStorm453@aol.com.