The thing I like about Indian Runners is that they’re bonkers. They’re not just individually bonkers, they’re bonkers in a collective sense.
They’re the synchronised swimmers of the duck world except rather than swim in formation they sort of flap-a-waddle in formation with a mixture of purpose and randomness. They are certifiably quacked.
What they are not is Indian. The origins of these ducks is in Bali, Lombok and Java in what used to be the Dutch East Indies and is now Indonesia. So strictly speaking they’re Indonesian Runners.
Wikipedia says they run and don’t waddle. Put it this way, if you went for a jog and ran like an Indian Runner you’d be accused of waddling. Moreover they can’t fly, so they’re stuck with running around aimlessly.
What they are, however, is entertaining. If you want ducks that lay quite well and are fun to have around they’re great. Yes, they lack what George Galloway might call sexual etiquette, but drakes of any stripe have never been exactly gallant.
Luca likes them too. His grandfather has allowed him to adopt two of the flock. One he’s called Super-Jim-Tastic (prompted in a roundabout way by the fact I used to have two pet Aylesbury ducks when I was growing up called George and Jim) and the other one he’s named, rather wonderfully, Scooby-Dooby-Duck.
If you fancy acquiring some you could get in touch via the blog – my father may put some of them up for sale.
