Once you go quack, you never go back.

Mr. Quackers is our huge black Muscovy duck. He is a sight you have to see in person so realize how impressive he is. Muscovy's are a very strong, hardy breed of duck that can fly even though they are massive with clawed feet. Mr. Quackers has five girls (hens) to keep himself "busy", which is a sight that you do not want to ever see. As if that isn't enough he has decided to follow Clover, our Bourbon Red turkey hen everywhere in his spare romance time.
Clover is a beautiful, gentle brown eyed, long legged beauty. Maybe it's the legs that got to him or the way she struts; he is driven to have her. Now here is the problem, you try to move, dissuade, relocate, and distract a big freaky duck in love. I've been mauled by a dog, faced a rabid animal (did the shots), grew up "playing" with cows that had giant horns (we lived in the country, they were my friends) handling a duck should be easy.
I'm in the barn, Mr. Quackers has clover cornered, and he's doing his love dance. Head bobbing, tail wagging, whispering sweet ducky quacks to her ankles. Now you also have to realize the whole time, in the background there are two giant male turkeys going crazy. They see Quackers as a threat to Clover and are determined to protect her. So while I'm trying to catch Mr. Q, the two stupid boy turkeys are in full regalia, feathers spread, thumping their chests and stomping their feet. Clover is just standing there blinking her big brown eyes with that "who me" look, pheromones, what pheromones?
I dive and snatch, get Quackers by the neck and one wing, sort of. Then I attempt to reposition my hands around his neck (gently) sliding both hands down to grab him by the top of his wings. Pressing them down, clamping his wings to his body I then pick him up. Now, even the boy turkeys give me what the heck are you crazy look watch me intently. I've got him for maybe one second, out comes one wing flapping free from my arms, whacking me in the face repeatedly. I get the wing; hang on and out pops the other wing. So now I'm holding him at my chest level, by the top of his wings. He is flying while I'm holding him. I'm not letting go, he's not giving up. This is my breeding drake, I'm thinking be gentle... yeah right. Some how I get the wings back down, mid air and clamp him to my chest. That's when I realize we are face to face, so close I can look thru his nostrils and see the other side of the room. Mr. Q. must have seen the determination/fear in my eyes and he relaxed. Then I was able to carry him out of the barn. I have to give Mr. Quackers credit, he at least didn't bite my nose off or take an eye out.
Mr. Q repeated the wooing of Clover for days. I repeated my duck removal process about 5 times a day for days. Oddly Mr. Quackers and I have become very close, we have now reached some form of understanding. I just point to the door; he then exits the barn gracefully. Waits until I'm out of sight and sneaks back in.