Mama was an australorp . . .
. . . who hooked up with a red laced blue Wyandotte. It was nothing serious. She knew that. After all, he had at least fifteen other hens that she knew about. It wasn’t going to last, but who could resist that tail?
But then the unthinkable happened and she didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t ready to be a mother. She wasn’t sure she knew how to be a mother. So she did what everyone else did and hopped in the little box in the corner, sat down and laid her egg.
No one really knew what happened to all the eggs that were laid there. They were laid and then became somebody else’s problem. Everyone liked it because it was discreet (even if everyone knew there was only one reason for going in that room) and within a few hours the problem just went away.
So mama australorp hopped in the little box and laid her egg. She covered it lightly with a loose blanket of straw and cried loudly as she left, but her problem was gone.
But then along came the Welsh Harlequin. She was a beautiful duck with only one desire in the world: to become a mother.
But her drake had been killed in a vicious dog attack the year before so she was unable to have any children of her own. She saw the hens going in and out of the box in the corner. She knew what it was for. And it always pained her to see them treating such a beautiful blessing like a problem that needed to be disposed of.
Until one day she decided to do something about it. After the australorp ran out crying over the problems she had brought upon herself, the Welsh Harlequin went in and sat.
And sat. And sat. And sat. For three weeks, she sat leaving only for an occasional drink and a little food. But mostly, she sat.
Until finally, she became a mother.
And though her baby didn’t look anything like her, to her mama heart, it was the most beautiful duckling in the world.