Duck Tales: Duo draws smiles on campus

Brent Andrada leads his pet duck Yoda past the pond at Diablo Valley College.

Kendall Brescia

Brent Andrada leads his pet duck Yoda past the pond at Diablo Valley College.

Alicia Watson, Staff member

One usually does a double take when seeing them on campus.  They are, after all, an odd pair, strolling leisurely side by side, or each vying to lead the other.  One wears typical student garb.  The other–a down coat and knitted shoes. Except on special days, when he dons a tuxedo.

Meet Brent Andrada, 20-year old Psychology major—he’s the one in the garb, and Yoda, one-year old Indian Runner duck—he’s the one in down. Andrada adopted Yoda from a friend, about a year ago.  They’ve been together ever since.

On occasion, the pair is seen traipsing across campus. Just two buds, enjoying the day. No leash desired, no leash required.

“People will ask ‘don’t you have a leash?” Andrada says. “’How do you get him to follow you?’ and I’m like ‘oh I give him twenty bucks,’” he says, then chuckles.

Actually, Yoda is very attached to Andrada, and instinctively follows wherever he goes.

It wasn’t a planned pairing. When Andrada’s friend, who had just purchased Yoda, realized she couldn’t care for the duckling, “I said, I’ll take him,” he recalls.

He already owned several egg-laying hens and a rabbit.  What was one more mouth to feed?

Which led to the next question:  What do you feed a tiny duckling, anyway?  So Andrada turned to the internet to learn all he could about Indian Runners, the species from which Yoda stems.

Unlike some duck species, Indian Runners can’t fly.  But they can and do run, as well as walk.  Likewise, Indian Runners don’t waddle like their tubby cousins.  Instead, they walk upright, maintaining a taller posture, much like that of penguins.

In the wild, the ducks are herbivores, feeding mostly on grass and insects.

“At first I fed him just fruits and vegetables,” Andrada says, pre-chewed to aid Yoda’s developing digestive system. But Andrada soon found a more appropriate duckling diet available at his local feed store.

“It had all the essential nutrients, so I gave that to him.

“And he literally grew three sizes in about a week!” Andrada says with wide-eyed recall.  “It was amazing, and I just fell in love. “

In the past year, the two have developed a close bond. “I consider him a buddy,” Andrada says.

The attachment is mutual, and for Yoda, it’s instinctive.  It’s part of a process called imprinting.

“Ducks are social animals,” Andrada explains. “When raised with other ducks, they bond with each other.  But if they’re socialized around humans, that’s who they bond with.”

And Yoda has bonded well.

In fact, “he’s very attached,” Andrada says.  “He doesn’t like being alone.

“When he’s at home, he hangs out with my family.  If I go out somewhere, he comes with me.”

According to Andrada, ducks are allowed at most places, provided food is not being served.

“I take him everywhere I go,” Andrada says.

Most people are delighted to see the pair.

“I just love to see their reactions, you know, they’re like ‘what the duck’!?’” he says with a laugh. “It’s such a random thing in most people’s lives.  A lot of them tell me I just made their day.”

But others have concerns, Andrada says.  “There’ve been several run-ins with animal rights activists.

“They ask me all these questions—quickly, one after the other,” Andrada says snapping his fingers to demonstrate.  “It’s like snap, snap, snap, snap,”  So I answer as best as I can, as fast as I can, trying not to mess up.  Because they want me to say something wrong, but I know I’m raising my pet duck the right way.”

Andrada does acknowledge the mindless adoption of small animals by some, as when buying chicks as Easter gifts for children, only to dispose of them later. “A horrible” practice,” he says.

“I saw on Craig’s list, another Indian Runner, just in a cage, with the owner saying ‘hey we need to get rid of this duck.’” Andrada says he’d like to take the duck in, “but I have my hands full.”

Here on campus, Yoda appears to be content when strutting alongside Andrada.

Walking tall. Looking proud. Comfortable in his own shoes.

“I got him shoes, because I don’t want his feet to get hurt,” Andrada says, noting a common foot infection among ducks, called Bumble Foot. “The shoes help to prevent that.”

The unusual sight tempts curious passersby to stop and chat.  And ask lots of questions.

They ask where Yoda lives.  He lives in the city of Hercules, roaming freely in Andrada’s backyard during the day.

They ask where he sleeps.  He sleeps in a large cage filled with hay.  It protects him from predators.

They wonder if he bites.  Yes, but it’s more like a gummy peck, given that ducks are toothless.

They ask how he gets around.  Sometimes he walks.  Sometimes he runs.  When he’s tired, Andrada carries him.  In the car, he rides in an open-topped chicken crate, often popping his head up to look out the window.

They ask if they can approach Yoda.  Yes, Andrada says, they can—if they speak softly, approach slowly, and gently extend an upward-facing hand, he’ll usually be receptive.  But shiny metals and bright colors attract Yoda, so owners should hang on to their bling.

They wonder if Yoda is potty trained.  No, he’s not.  Ducks are not trainable, says Andrada.  If Yoda does his thing on a public sidewalk, Andrada is there to clear the mess.

While there are some downsides to caring for Yoda, they are minimal, says Andrada.

“I took Yoda in because I knew I’d be able to take care of him, Andrada says. “I never expected him to be so enjoyable.

“He was a pet at first, but now he’s family.”