I hate vetting my animals. It's not that, so much, as that I hate that my animals may be wanting in some medical need and then I have to figure out what it is. If you have a kid, he can say, "My head hurts." "Lookie, my hand is bleeding." and so on. And you can then proceed with proper maternal nursing or first aid.
With an animal who speaks no English, one can only surmise. Our Appaloosa, a decade ago, came up to the feed bin with part of her cheek peeled away. Whaaaa??? (That entailed a lot of stitches.) A cat in my childhood arrived home clearly injured in a catfight, and lapsed into some sort of a coma for a couple of days; my Mom said nature would take its course. And yes, on the other end of the tunnel, ol' Nero awoke and commenced fiddling again, happily.
So last night, I brought the ducks in to their duckhouse. Twelve of them. Where was Number 13? I walked out onto the snow & icy yard, and there she was, unable to walk, lying on the ice. If I had missed her, she would have been some fox or coyote's evening meal.
I brought her inside for the night. This morning, she was still unable to stand. I looked online for all sorts of answers, and none seemed to pinpoint the symptoms I was seeing. Most sites said to fill a tub/pool with warm water. So that's what we did:
Well, what should happen when I set this poor female duck on the ground, but the two drakes in the bunch run clear across the yard and try to mate with her. REALLY? She looks just like all the rest of the ducks...why jump on her all the time? Is she a floozy?!
Anyway, at least now we know it is not some awful-sounding thing like "egg-bound" or "botulism". In Aussie-speak (that Spouse o' Mine):" The drakes are randy this time of year, aren't they?"
Sheesh. An epiphany, of sorts.