I came home from work yesterday afternoon, and there was a tiny hole in one of the eggs, with a little beak sticking out. This surprised the hell out of me, as I thought it would be more like Saturday before they were ready to hatch.

So I watched, and I waited. Four hours went by, and the little guy hadn’t made any progress, and his peeps were getting quieter and quieter.

So you know I helped. Carefully, and only a little, but by bedtime, I had a feeble little ducky on my hands.

I set up the trough with some bedding and the light and the food and water. I moved the incubator into a room that I can shut the door on, in case any more decided to make their appearances in the night and get eaten by the very interested cat.

I really expected to see either a little fluff ball or a cold dead duck in the morning. What I got instead was something in between. He’s too weak to stand on his own, but if I pick him up and hold his head over the water, he’ll drink. I may have got a little bit of food down his beak, but I’m not sure. He sure did put up a fuss when I cleaned the crusty poo off his backside though, and that’s a good sign that he’s getting stronger.

I decided against taking them to school. They don’t like to be jostled too much at this stage, and if this guy is any indication, they’re not going to be too hardy. Seamus understands.

So, we’ll see. I’ll give the rest of them a few more days, but really, I expect all of this to have been for nothing. This guy probably isn’t going to make it, and who knows about the rest. But it’s been fun and educational, and if another one hatches, maybe the kids will be home to watch.