Today I was at Green Ridge Village to take my mother to a skin cancer specialist (she's fine...no worries) and some...let's say a misguided soul allowed a wild mother duck and her five ducklings into the building.
Much screaming and madness and duck flight ensued while I'm yelling, "Calm down! It won't hurt you! IT'S! A! DUCK!"
|This Is Not the Face of Death. IT'S A DUCK!|
I tried to grab it, but unlike in my youth when I was a park ranger at Caledonia State Park and could grab black rat snakes in mid-strike, at the age of 61 I discover I am too slow to grab panicking ducks. Eventually after much mayhem we herded it out an open door.
I found out later this is not that uncommon an occurrence and again, reason rears her lovely head and I am forced to ask, "What idiot allows wild ducks and the associated ducklings into a residential building filled with old people?"
PS: I lied about grabbing a black rat snake in mid-strike. I actually only did that once. The rest of the time, I gave fascinated park patrons a chance to see what a nonpoisonous snake bite looks like of which I accumulated quite a number trying to repeat my Chuck Norris moment.PPS: A nonpoisonous snake bite can hurt like the little dickens, let me tell you.
PPPS: Sorry for the implied vulgarity. Normally I keep my language sparkling clean, but you cannot maintain an aura of dignity when chasing a flying duck down a corridor filled with screaming people in wheelchairs and walkers.
PPPPS: No, it was NOT ME who let the duck in the nursing home.