mary e. pearson

My sister takes a lot of beautiful photos, but sometimes she takes ones that are just plain fun. I love this one. How can you look at it and not smile? Of course, I have a thing for ducks as some of you read about quite some time ago. Not too practical for me to have a duck since I already have two bird dogs (though the dogs might beg to differ) but I love everything about ducks--from the noises they make, to the way they waddle, all the way down to their floppy orange feet.

Admit it, they make you smile too.

. . . have flown the coop!




This is Kelly
(being scolded by Aflac–you remember that bossy little guy?)



Kelly deserves one of cynthialord’s tiaras for all of her devotion to these three quackers. No delicacy was spared–mush, crickets, worms, Kelly made sure they had it all. And her care showed in how healthy they were, in spite of their dirty detour. She even kept giving them bigger swimming pools as they grew.




Kelly even found them the perfect home–a protected pond (they still can’t fly) that was already home to a black duck who loved them at first site and took them under her wing. (And there is not a sewer in sight!) Hurray!

Now get your mind out of the sewer. Leave that for me. That’s where I was. In the sewer. My hot Friday date was with a duck in a sewer. Now mind you, there are very few things in life that could ever coerce me into the wet, stinky, very creepy cavern of a sewer, but a peeping duckling happens to be one of those things. Sigh. Why wasn’t I hard of hearing? My husband lifted the manhole, I swiped away the cobwebs that I could, and down I went. (Yes, hubby offered, but I figured I would be a better aim with the butterfly net.)

Turns out there were THREE of them–and no Mama. The sewer itself had three tunnels leading into it and as soon as I went down, the little farts fled down one of them. Luckily, my little “duck whisperer” (my daughter) peeped from above and they waddled back long enough for me to nab one of them. The other two fled for Florida it seemed (which btw I was very glad I didn’t live in right now–alligators in sewers ya know? Yes, I was very creeped out and hoped no one let a pet alligator loose fifty years ago and it was waiting all this time for ME, but I digress) By now it was getting dark, so we called it a night and a nice neighbor who happened by took the first little stooge home since she has done wildlife rescue before and had a little aquarium/heater that would be perfect for him.

Well, the next morning I walked over to the sewer. All was quiet. I peeped, and darn if the little duckies didn’t peep right back. I guess we were going down again. But the funny thing is, on a Saturday morning a lot of neighbors were around and noticing these weird people going down manholes (or should I call them personholes?) This time I went down a sewer at the end of one tunnel and my husband went down in the sewer at the opposite end of the tunnel. And about twenty neighbors gathered around both sewers as word spread and it became a huge team effort–The Great Duckling Rescue.

These last two quackers were clever and stubborn and it took the brain and muscle power of twenty humans to match them (no comment). We tried everything–hoses, long poles, flashlights, even a fake quacking stuffed duck (good grief, I think the little ducklings even laughed at that one) but finally one neighbor came up with a brilliant idea. It’s a good thing too because the sewer stink was starting to get to me and I didn’t care how cute they were, I drew the line at crawling down the dark slimy tunnel on my tummy to get them. She suggested a beachball! Another neighbor ran to get one. It was just about the right size to roll down the tunnel with a little bit of water from a hose pushing it along, but it wasn’t so heavy it would crush them if they didn’t move. It took a few tries, but it worked! First one jumped out at my feet just ahead of the beachball, and then a relay team took the ball back to my husband at the other end who sent it down again. A few more tries and the last one finally came out at my end and I scooped him up in the butterfly net! Everyone cheered.

Gosh they were adorable and they were all so happy to be reunited with each other. We hope they all make it. The sewer is a pretty nasty place, but so far so good. As soon as they are old enough, the neighbor who is taking care of them is going to release them in a nearby lake–which is probably where Mama Duck took off to (we hope).

I would have taken a picture of them to share (did I mention how CUTE they were?) but I felt so gross afterwards I didn’t want to touch anything but a nice hot shower–with lots of soap.

I have "visitation rights" : ) so a picture might still be forthcoming . . .