Damn Duck

James went on a raft trip on the Green River.  He didn’t really know if he should go because of his garden and pets, but I knew he wanted to go.  He works so hard all year round and doesn’t play much and he’s been a rock for me.   So I said I could take care of everything for him.  I can irrigate the garden, water the plants in pots, walk and care for the dogs, throw some scratch at the chickens, check for eggs, harvest the berries.  I could totally do all that.  And I could care for the tiny wild duckling that somehow ended up in the driveway a few weeks ago.  How hard could that be?

We don’t really know how the duckling ended up in the driveway, but I am now convinced it’s a changeling.  James has gone to great length to care for the duckling until it’s old enough to survive on its own.  The duckling has an outdoor pen with water, fresh straw, and shade.  He has an indoor tub with water and a place to roost for the night and he has a holding tank to swim in.  The duckling recognizes James and hops into his hand.  When I come, he runs pell mell around his pen like a maniac trying to find an escape route.  Once he actually escaped, because I caught my arm on the jagged edge of the chicken wire causing me to say words that I don’t use on social media and the duck raced over my foot into the underbrush, with Tesla, the border collie in hot pursuit.  Lucky for the duck that the underbrush completely helped the getaway.  Tesla and I raced around the underbrush to see if the duck would emerge on the other side.  He did, but so did Rolie, James’s other dog who is a soft, cuddly-no nonsense- small animal slayer.  The duckling had buried his head in tall grass, sensing the end was near; Rolie was getting ready to clamp his teeth in tail feathers, but I grabbed the duckling from the jaws of death and marched him up to his swimming pond.  Both of our hearts were beating fast.  I don’t know if ducks sweat or have hot flashes, but there was no doubt about me.  After we arrived at the pond, we both took a few minutes to collect ourselves.  I sat next to the pond taking cleansing breaths and the duck glided around, but stayed out of my reach.

The holding tank is plastic and James has sunk it into the earth and he has goldfish in it.  It is also right next to a steep hill covered in Virginia creeper.  To keep the duck from hopping out, there is a pallet and some scrap wood, which also creates a nice shady arbor for the duck.  And there is a piece of board in the water that serves as a island for preening when Sir Duck grows tired of swimming.  When James swims the duckling, the duck will hop on the board, and James just scoops him up ending the swimming session.  With me, no way.  The duckling stays in the water out of my reach and never comes on the island.  He swims around watching me out of the corner of his eye.  There is no trust.  No love.  And no way is he going to voluntarily come to me.  So after more than an hour of this stand-off, I decided I was just going to have to catch him.  So I took the pallet off and leaned over the water, making wild grabs.  Ducks are fast and they can dive.  So he was racing all over and diving and I nearly fell in the stupid holding tank like six times, lunging at the water.  I was so glad that no one was watching.  I’d like to report that I was eventually victorious, although soaked and furious.

On my next attempt to swim the duckling, I remembered the treacherous sharp wire and avoided impaling myself, so there was no escaping out of the pen.  The swim session was chill.  The duck floated around mostly under the pallet out of my reach, but I was willing for him to have a nice long swim.  I wanted to show him that I was sorry for calling him a little bastard.  And it went very well, until he decided to just randomly pop out of the pond and scramble down the Virginia Creeper Hill.  There was no way I could follow, so I raced down the stone steps in my stupid flip flops to get to him.  James has a million projects going on and all kinds of stuff stored behind his house, so I was picking through solar panels and wire and wood as fast as I could to get to the duckling.  There was no sign of him.  I stood real still to see if I could hear his peeping.  I thought I saw movement at the top of the hill just underneath the holding tank, so I scrabbled my way back up the hill over the Virginia Creeper.  Nope it wasn’t the duck.  I decided maybe the dogs could help me.  On second thought, maybe Tesla could help me.  I didn’t want Rolie finding the duck first, but both dogs came tearing out of the house when I opened the door.  My first thought was to go around the side of the house, but I realized there was too much junk for me to be able to fit.  While I was calculating my next move, I spied the duck in front of the house behind some wooden ladders.  I had to climb over potted plants and rocks, so the duckling saw me coming; he knew I was on to him, so he start running away from me and slipped through the fence into the tree farm next door.  And that’s when I realized that there might be a reason duck rhymes with fuck.

There’s a scene in one of the Jurassic Park movies when the velociraptors are moving through the forest.  This was sort of like that except it was a baby duck.  I ran to the gate and let Tesla through, but shut Rolie out.  He ran up and down the fence line, keeping his eyes on the duck.  Tesla raced into the tree yard with me close behind.  The duck disappeared.  I started to think, “OMG, is this duck smart?”  But then I spied him, right before he fell into an empty tree bucket.  I was reassured that he is really a dumbass as he kept bobbing up and down, trying to escape; Tesla stood over him until I got there and grabbed him up.  I put him in his pen, my heart once again pounding, maybe accompanied by a tiny bit of chest pain.

I had a winescicle afterwards to cope with the stress and the heat this duck has brought on.  I hope James is enjoying his float.  I hope that he loves me enough that my inadequacies with ducks is not a deal breaker.  I have six more days.   I survived CANCER; this creature will not break me.  I hope.