April A to Z Challenge: Q is for ...

Q is for Quack!

    Computer Geek and son Neo were driving home in July, 2008, and saw two bewildered-looking friends of ours standing by the side of the road. CG and Neo stopped to see what was going on and found the friends looking at a stray baby duck. After a little discussion, Computer Geek decided to bring the baby home. (He's a softie with animals.)

    The duckling was sheltered in an old pet cage we had in the back yard. The neighborhood was rife with cats and we wanted to ensure the safety of the little guy. Weston had fun filling up an old tub and letting the duck swim around. As summer progressed, the duck was great for grasshopper control.

Neo with Ducky

    As early fall approached, we realized the duck could not stay with us. He would not be able to withstand the cold weather and he needed the companionship of some ducky friends to guide him southward. We discussed a few duck-friendly locales and finally decided on a lake a few miles from our house. Ducks were often paddling across the surface, so we thought it was a good place to "make the drop."

    Although the lake is duck-friendly, it is not very people friendly. It's pretty marshy and we had a tough time getting the duck to the duck-section of the lake.  Ducky seemed to be unaware that he was indeed a duck, and had no interest in being left behind.  We tried to move faster than the duck, but we were old and fat so it wasn't working too well.

    We enlisted the help of Weston, who is much faster than we are. He took Ducky to the fowl side of the lake and left him there.  But not for long. Little Ducky was quite speedy and almost caught up to Weston. He had no interest in the flirty little females that were splashing around. He wanted to go home, and pronto! How do you explain to a duck that he belonged with creatures that looked like him?

    As we all ran toward the car, it broke our hearts to see little Ducky running after us, quacking "Wait for me!" We were in tears as we piled in the car and pulled away, watching his little body waddling after us. I hoped, deep inside, that he would be one of those animals who magically found his way back home again, and that I would wake up one morning to hear him quacking in the back yard. It was not to be so. We all hoped that somehow, Ducky made some friends that day and discovered that the lake,  teeming with grasshoppers and fellow quackers, was a nice place to be.