One soppy morning, on our way to the hen house to gather chicken eggs, my oldest granddaughter was just the right height to spot movement in the tall stasis near the duck pen.

“Grandma, what’s that? Something moved.”

It caught my attention about the time she finished speaking. A newly hatched duckling was attempting to get back into the duck pen. On the other side, floating lifeless in the water was another newly hatched duckling. The pen was not a safe place for the hatchlings. I quickly rescued the living duckling and wrapped it in my top against my belly to keep it warm.

“Is it okay? Is the duckel’ing okay?”  GrandThing1 was very worried.

We hurried back to the house where we gathered a storage bin, some rags and a heat lamp. When the makeshift brood box was ready, I slipped the little bird from under my top. My…