When Myrna Loy received six ducklings from her friend Kenny Turner in 1996, she didn’t expect to still have one of that brood around 22 years later. The duck, a magpie drake named “Mr. Turner” in honor of one of her friends, resides on Loy’s property near Fargher Lake, living a much more wound-down life than when he first arrived more than two decades ago.
It wasn’t until earlier this year that Loy became aware of just how unusual Mr. Turner’s longevity was. She made a post featuring the duck onto Facebook in January, receiving a stream of comments about Mr. Turner’s apparent age.
“I was just totally blown away,” Loy remarked. She said that some have told her to seek out the Guinness Book of World Records for confirmation. Therein laid a problem, as unlike some types of livestock with documents, Mr. Turner was initially just one of half a dozen ducks.
“When a clutch of ducks is hatched, who would ever think they were going to live that old,” Loy said. “You get so many of them, so who would take a note of that?”
After the Facebook comments Loy contacted Kenny’s widow, corroborating when the ducklings were received. That puts Mr. Turner far above the average lifespan of a domesticated duck at around 10 years, the age listed by animal advocacy group Four Paws International.
Guinness does have a record for oldest duck, a mallard hen that was 20 years and three months old when it died in 2002. But the record appears dated. In 2009, British news outlets reported the death of an even older duck at 22.
Other data show ages even older than Mr. Turner. According to information from the U.S. Geological Survey, a wild mallard was at least 27 years old when shot by a hunter in 2008 based on a band on its leg.
Though Mr. Turner likely hasn’t broken any record, his ability to stick around so long is still remarkable — and he hasn’t had it easy. Loy explained how a rooster attack left him without an eye. Though recovery was slow he has been able to keep going, still here about a decade after that ordeal.
In the last few years life has slowed down for Mr. Turner. Loy explained that he doesn’t leave his enclosure anymore, a converted dog run. There he lives with two muscovy ducks, one of which, a hen named July, he has taken a particular liking to, nesting together with the much younger bird.
Mr. Turner has a few other quirks of his old age. Other than his missing eye he also has a hunch in his neck, which Loy thought could have been developed from defending his wound. His steps are significantly smaller than when he was younger, making a pattering as he makes his short moves around the enclosure for food or a new place to nest.
As to what has kept Mr. Turner around for so long, Loy had a few theories. For one, she never had him out of his pen unsupervised, noting that he may have fallen prey to attacks from other wild birds.
“The eagles have taken their fair share of ducks,” Loy remarked. On top of a watchful eye, she reasoned that Mr. Turner’s bond with July might be keeping him going.
Even if Mr. Turner won’t be featured in any record book, for Loy, a lifelong animal owner of a myriad of species, his remarkable longevity made him a standout pet in her mind.
“Who’d have ever thought?” she said.
