Missing Duck!
Have you seen this duck?
If so, please call immediately as she is sadly missed by both her human and waterfowl friends.
Imagine my horror when, walking back from the neighbour's place the other morning (we're horse-sitting while they are off cruising in some warm, dry, lovely location...) I spotted Audrey Hepburn strolling down the road! Audrey has always had a mind of her own, apparent since the day we brought her home. She's always the first out of the duck gulag in the morning, and first back in at night. If the other ducks head for the orchard, she strolls off to the field. If the rest of the flock snuggles down to sleep inside the cozy dog crate duck hostel, she roosts in the rain on top. She eats when they bathe, bathes when they nap, and naps when they eat. She is a duck with a mind of her own. The fact that she was strolling along the road meant she had flown up and over the fence around the field and orchard where she and the rest of the flock spend their days grazing and hunting for bugs and worms. Not good. What if some handsome mallard flew past, cocked his head, and quacked? Audrey Hepburn could sail off into the wild blue yonder, never to be seen again... (listen closely... do you hear that ominous music in the background?)
Unlike the other ducks, Audrey is also difficult to herd - she scoots and darts, dives between our legs and heads wherever it is we do not wish her to go. The other morning, our attempts to herd her back home took us into the immaculately groomed front yard of one neighbour and the private breakfast patio of another, Audrey always one step ahead and too clever to allow herself to be cornered. When we got too close, she flapped her trump card, lifted into the air and sailed away. She disappeard from sight into the farmlands of the Hunt Valley where, we feared, she would surely meet her end in the jaws of a hungry dog.
So began a day of searching, calling, fretting, hand-wringing, and self-beration - why, oh why had we not clipped her wings, as we had planned? In a flurry of feathers and indignant birds, we herded the rest of the flock back into the duck pen where we caught each one in turn and clipped their flight feathers. (Curious how to do this? Click here...) None of the other ducks were in the least impressed with our mud-wrestling, feather-snipping antics and, I confess, the whole exercise felt a bit like door-locking after the horse was long gone.
Several trips down the hill left us one beak short until dusk darkened the horizon and Audrey darkened the gate of the duck pen! Yes, our wandering waterfowl returned unscathed, strolling into the orchard as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a wander-lusting duck to meander back into town without explanation. Needless to say we hastily pruned her flight feathers and she remains safely grounded.
So began a day of searching, calling, fretting, hand-wringing, and self-beration - why, oh why had we not clipped her wings, as we had planned? In a flurry of feathers and indignant birds, we herded the rest of the flock back into the duck pen where we caught each one in turn and clipped their flight feathers. (Curious how to do this? Click here...) None of the other ducks were in the least impressed with our mud-wrestling, feather-snipping antics and, I confess, the whole exercise felt a bit like door-locking after the horse was long gone.
Several trips down the hill left us one beak short until dusk darkened the horizon and Audrey darkened the gate of the duck pen! Yes, our wandering waterfowl returned unscathed, strolling into the orchard as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a wander-lusting duck to meander back into town without explanation. Needless to say we hastily pruned her flight feathers and she remains safely grounded.
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