We started out over a year ago with 10 ducks. Ten. Whole. Ducks.
I am not a fan of ducks. Or any bird for that matter. As my daughter would say, "Just not my thang."
One by one (and sometimes two by two) the ducks disappeared. Two would disappear in a night then we'd go a month or two with the remaining herd untouched.
Then one would go out in a blaze of feathers and squawking.
And then there were two. A momma and a daddy and they were laying eggs.
Of course, ducks are so dumb that they don't actually like, make a nest or anything. She'd just lay those eggs werever she felt like it. And her husband let her, so it wasn't just her being a dipshit. But they didn't ask me for my humanly opinion and kept leaving their unbornst bebes lying around haphazardly.
Hence, no ducklings because - well, if you leave eggs lying around, chances are either the fox, the dog or the friggin' Easter Bunny is going to snatch them.
Then last week.... sadly ..... something got hold of Daddy Duck. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't the Easter Bunny.
For nearly two weeks we've heard Daphne (So I'm not very original. Sue me.) quacking mournfully. And if anyone would've ever tried to tell me that there is such thing as a "mournful" quack, I'd never have believed it. Until now. She's one sad duck.
And even though I don't like ducks, I really do feel sorry for her.
Why the hell am I telling you this?
I have no flippin' idea.
I was born a semi-diva. I married a redneck. Through the magic of osmosis or just because of a serious lack of sophistication over the years I have found a balance of the two that make me who I am today. And then I write about it all, much to the chagrin of my mother.
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Poor Diva Family....Want some goldfish?
I actually have pretty good luck with goldfish. Abby got one for her 2nd birthday and it lived until a few days before her 6th. 4 years for a goldfish ain't too shabby, I thought.
The ducks were a drunken swapmeet purchase of my brother in law's. He got home with a frickin' HERD of ducks and decided to share with his baby brother. I mean, we have two ponds, I guess we were an obvious choice. This is the second batch of 'em he's brought. Soon as he finds out they're almost gone he's gonna make another drunken purchase, I just know it. Dammit.
Aw, poor ducks!!!
Quack. :sniff:
nine down, one to go. Eatin' all these things is hell on my diet, but I'm on a mission, you see.
Derek, you are evil incarnate. But you're so good at it - don't stop.
So, did you give them names when there were 10 left, or did you wait until it was just the one? ;)
I waited. There was no way I could differentiate between 10 damn ducks. David was her deceased husband, though. I knew I could keep two straight.
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