His real name is supposed to be Heinz, but it just doesn't fit him.
King Charles, if you remember, was the little fluffball who accompanied Benjamin on his journey to our little farm. He was the companion duck, who, after being placed in the brooder with the three other goslings and Ben, decided to take them all on by nipping repeatedly at their noses.
He's come quite a way since then.
I will be the first to admit that when King Charles first came to us, I dismissed him as "that duck". The five ducklings we already had were such a nusiance already, always running away and being nervous and getting sick, that I figured he'd just be more trouble and I wrote him off. I figured that if he was content to live with the goslings and they all got along, so be it, he could do whatever he wanted to do and that was that. Luckily, ducks and geese have similar nutritional needs in the brooder, so there was no issue, and I'd not be endangering his health to live with the goslings.
|This is where King Charles discovered my son's apple juice, and that he really liked it.|
Since then, I can't dig the dirt with Charles around without him waiting for me to offer him a worm. When he sees the shovel, he walks right over and cocks his head to the side, as if to ask, "So? Got anything for me?" I give him whatever I find.
Yep, he's a funny guy alright, and has made me start to rethink my outlook on ducks overall.