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A Duck Tale


kimblanchard

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A Duck Tale

Practical Solutions to Unusual Problems

One of our ducks had apparently lost her little duck mind. The male ducks were picking on her a lot, so about September she moved under our front porch to nest. I was like - oh, no - chicks born this late have no chance. But nothing would dissuade her, not dogs, not anything. If you ran her off, she just came back. She just kept on sitting on that nest. A month went by. 6 weeks. No chicks. Hmm. And she just kept on sitting. As near as I could see, there were no eggs. Hysterical pregnancy? And I heard all this clacking and clicking and pecking, looked down between the floor boards in time to see her patiently, persistantly, a little bit at a time, shoving a beer can into her nest and then sitting on it. Now that is sad. So I did nothing for a while. Tried to think of things. Had this vision of her coming home wet with snow and sitting on the metal beer can, her walking around with a beer can frozen to her butt ...

I told people my problem. Everybody said the same thing. "There's something wrong with that duck."

Finally got a solution. January. That duck is still sitting under the porch with a beer can in her nest. I waited until she left for a bite to eat. With a rake, and then a very long skinny board, I fished out two beer cans, as it turned out. Then I rolled in a dozen fuzzy tennis balls to about where her nest was. Some of them bounced off the back wall and rolled off course, darn. So then I have my rake and board and am trying to at least bunch them up. And it is not smelling all that good under that porch and I am a little worried about bugs. I persist. Okay, good enough. Wait for Mama Duck to come home. She came home, settled right back onto her nest, now filled with tennis balls, and never seemed to know the difference.

True story. Happy New Year.

Margaret

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