Leo's place on the web!husband, father, entrepreneur…

In the quiet tranquility of a small backyard farm, nestled amidst lush greenery, a harmonious community thrived. Rabbits, ducks, and chickens coexisted, their delightful presence bringing life and joy to the humble abode. A carefully constructed coop offered safety and security for the chickens and ducks, while the rabbits found solace in their cages gracefully hung on the fence, adorned with a delicate covering.

One serene morning, as the golden sun slowly climbed above the horizon, a scene of unexpected adversity unfolded. The farmer emerged from the comforts of home, ready to tend to the farm’s needs, only to discover that their contented flock of five ducks had been reduced to three. A sense of concern filled the air, and an anxious search commenced.

Amidst the search, the farmer’s gaze settled upon a heartbreaking sight. There, amidst the gentle morning light, lay a wounded duck, her delicate neck bleeding, and her throat cruelly cut. Despite the severity of her injuries, a flicker of life remained within her. Determined and compassionate, the farmer sprang into action, gently cradling the injured duck and rushing her to safety.

Days turned into a delicate dance of healing and observation. The once vibrant and lively duck seemed dazed, her spirit momentarily dampened by the harrowing experience she had endured. Lethargy shadowed her every movement, rendering her disoriented and unsure.

Beside their injured companion, the other three ducks stood as steadfast pillars of support. Sensing her confusion and vulnerability, they embarked on a silent mission to guide her back to the path of recovery. The small kiddie pool, a sanctuary of both playfulness and sustenance, became the stage where their beautiful display of compassion would unfold.

One by one, the three ducks approached their injured companion, their gentle wings outstretched as if embracing her wounded soul. With synchronized elegance, they bent down to drink from the pool’s glistening surface, a subtle invitation for their companion to follow suit.

The injured duck, her eyes filled with curiosity and uncertainty, observed her loyal friends with a mixture of awe and longing. She witnessed their synchronized movements, their graceful bows, and realized they were showing her the way. The way to quench her thirst, to find solace in the water’s cool embrace.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered her bill toward the water’s edge, mirroring the actions of her devoted companions. As she sipped from the pool, a newfound spark danced in her eyes, a spark that rekindled her spirit and infused her frail body with strength.

Yet the journey had just begun. The three ducks, no longer content with guiding her to drink, embarked on a shared expedition of nourishment. They ventured toward the nearby feeding area, where nature’s bounty awaited them. One of the ducks, glancing back with a tender gaze, noticed their injured friend still standing by the pool, her longing evident.

Without hesitation, the compassionate duck waddled back toward her, nuzzling against her side with soft quacks and purrs. It was a gesture of encouragement, a silent plea to join the rest in their feast. And so, emboldened by this gesture of love, the injured duck followed her newfound friend, her steps growing more assured with each passing moment.

Together, they approached the food, a cornucopia of sustenance laid before them. The injured duck hesitated, uncertain of how to partake in this communal act. Sensing her unease, her companions took charge once again, demonstrating the simple pleasure of pecking and foraging. In that moment, barriers dissolved, and unity prevailed.

As they dined together, laughter seemed to echo through the farm, a joyous melody carried on the gentle breeze. The injured duck’s eyes sparkled with gratitude and newfound belonging. The wounds of her body began to heal, but more importantly, the wounds of her spirit mended as well.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The injured duck, once on the brink of despair, now thrived in the warm embrace of her devoted companions. They became an inseparable quartet, their unity a testament to the resilience of friendship and the power of collective care.

The backyard farm became a tapestry of shared moments, each infused with tenderness and strength. The ducks’ once injured companion, now fully restored, embodied a spirit as vibrant as her feathered friends. The boundaries that once separated them vanished, leaving only a harmonious symphony of quacks, clucks, and playful leaps.

Together, they explored the world beyond their coop and cages, venturing into the vast expanse of nature that stretched beyond the farm’s boundaries. Their vibrant feathers glistened under the golden sun, as if mirroring the radiance of their spirits.

The injured duck’s journey of healing became an emblem of hope, inspiring all who witnessed the transformative power of compassion. Neighbors and friends marveled at the remarkable bond between the ducks, enchanted by the harmony that permeated their daily lives.

In the cool twilight hours, the four friends would return to their sanctuary—the small kiddie pool that had witnessed their tale of resilience and love. They would gather around its edge, dipping their bills into the water, relishing the simple pleasures of camaraderie and refreshment.

And so, the story of the injured duck’s recovery became etched into the very fabric of the backyard farm. It served as a reminder that within the smallest corners of our world, extraordinary acts of kindness and compassion can blossom, transforming lives and bringing light to even the darkest of moments.

As the seasons changed and the years rolled by, the farm remained a testament to the enduring bonds forged in adversity. The ducks’ feathers weathered the passage of time, but the imprints of their shared journey remained forever etched upon their hearts.

Visitors to the farm would often ask about the ducks—how they had become inseparable, how they had healed wounds both seen and unseen. And the farmer would share the tale, their voice filled with a mix of awe and gratitude, for they had been fortunate to witness the beauty of resilience firsthand.

In that humble backyard farm, the ducks continued to dance through life together, their every quack and flutter a living testament to the unbreakable power of friendship. The injured duck, now indistinguishable from her companions, reveled in the simple pleasures that the farm offered. With each step she took, her spirit soared, embodying the farm’s enduring legacy—a legacy of compassion, healing, and an unwavering spirit of unity.

I bred our Flemish Giant, John Travolta, to our CG/New Zealand mix doe, Sandy. Here’s the litter of 7. They are three weeks old.

In May I ordered four Rhode Island Red chicks from tractor supply company. We recycled some pallets into a nice covered roosting area. The chickens prefer roosting on the top step of our deck. This will need to change. I’m now doing more work on their coop to make them feel more safe in it. hopefully we can work out a deal so they begin roosting in their coop. We should get farm fresh eggs every day as soon as they hit five or six months old.