There apparently is a duck couple taking up residence in my yard. As I was cleaning up dinner’s aftermath Thursday, The Girl breathlessly ran into the kitchen announcing that the “Mommy and Daddy ducks” were back.
She’d mentioned them before, so I grabbed the camera as we quietly headed outside. We are careful to move slowly and quietly. They seem to appreciate that, as they don’t immediately begin to flee. Then I get a bright idea to have The Girl grab the remnants of the bread wrapper, and we began pitching wads of stale bread in their general direction.
The Mommy was down with the bread, as she immediately waddled over to get her proverbial grub on. The Daddy was the cool, detached observer, not partaking in the enjoyment. He must have been taking notes.
When we first moved to this house, we had similar duck visitors for the first few days. Then they must have figured out their new landlords had a dog, because we hadn’t seen once since. Now, they must have figured out that Miles isn’t around anymore, given their confident strutting about.
