Monday, June 13, 2016


Today I was at Green Ridge Village to take my mother to a skin cancer specialist (she's 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.


  1. At least it was only a duck and not a goose.

    1. Truth. If it had been a goose, I would have yelled, "DINNER!" and taken appropriate measures.