The kids found the body of my little grayling kitten after supper in the bale yard, and it's likely he met his end via the fanbelt in the truck. The kids have each offered to share their kittens with me.
The ducklings are probably pintails. No more hatched since this morning, but we still have two more than we thought we would.
And, in the best news of the day, thanks to advice from a dear friend of ours, an 82-year-old naturalist as well as the father of Tom's best friend since grade 1, the kildeer and her brood are probably safe and sound and just on their way. The young are pretty "precocious," he explained, and the birds like to get a move on right after hatching. I can certainly live with that.
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