The Waddle
My wife purchased Pekin ducks (first domesticated, by the way, over 2,000 years ago). They’ve been here for three years, two winters, and there are 15 of them. (I seem to remember 16 originally, but I don’t want to alarm my wife.) Aside from the cold, they’ve avoided raccoons, foxes, eagles, the huge snapping turtles we have in the lake, and everything else. My wife feeds them daily, but they have a habit of emerging from the water and surrounding anyone who visits: UPS, Fedex, bookkeeper, florist, cleaning crew, clients—anyone. Some of these people, especially the cleaning crew, will feed them from the duck food we keep in a large receptacle by the water. (I’m wondering, if there are ducks in Guatemala, no offense, such is the habitual feeding by the cleaning people.)
Thus, they often get themselves fed three or more times a day, and the wild ducks and geese hustle over to get their share. Fortunately, Bentley just loves to chase them and doesn’t try to kill them, and Coco simply eats the duck food amongst them. I suspect she’s become their mascot.
I don’t know if these flightless, aquatic, waterfowl are incredibly bright or frighteningly stupid and lucky, but I suspect the former given their longevity thus far. They show up en masse, quack and make noise until you fee them because they can’t quack when they’re eating, and then they wait for the next likely food source. I think they’d make it big time in sales if they didn’t have such a good life already.
