Sunday, May 17, 2009


Our current stage of family structure still enables us to be fairly spontaneous. So we made a last-minute, surprise road trip to Boise over this past week to visit with family there. Had a lot of fun getting caught up with the little bros, watching the videos of their roadshow and sports events, talking and laughing lots, etc. Also we learned of dad's newest hobby: relocating squirrel friends who decided to burrow in the attic. Jerry really wanted to get the catching process on video, but squirrel #9 just proved too wily. We did get to watch the release of #8, after we drove him in his little "havahart" cage miles away from our house--over the river, through the woods, and behind the cemetery/Jewish synagogue. When my dad lifted the cage door, our poor little squirrel friend bolted so fast we didn't even see which tree he ended up hiding in.

To me, ducks are no longer half as cute as squirrels. Here is my story of how my duck disillusionment began: When we fed the ducks about a week or two ago, I witnessed an intraspecies attack. One "adolescent" sized duck got jumped by the rest of the flock. Biting, chasing, body slamming--the flock was horrifically vicious to their outcast. So I ran into the fray and, in a spirit of moral outrage, kicked the attacking ducks away.
Flipflop feet. Jerry got worried for the welfare of my little toes. In spite of my help, the weakling duck still got chased into the bushes and I have no doubt she is dead at this moment. If you watch the video, turn your computer screen to 100% brightness and contrast (it was evening and our light was bad). Also, Jerry claims the commentary on the video is his favorite part, so you might want to turn on the volume.

Anyway, the ducklings were not so charming after I saw what mob violence their parents were capable of. But for anybody who still wants to look at killer ducks in baby form, here is one pic Jerry took that is semi-cute.
Note this duckling on the log is a fluffy yellow color. The BYU pond has a lot of domestic breeds interspersed with the wild mallards. Maybe that's where all the warfare comes from--culture clashes. Or it could have been due to the stale Froot Loops we tossed in the water (sugar makes me irritable, at least--though I'm not sure what it does for ducks).


Morgan said...

Courtney, you are one of a kind! I love it! It's unfortunate that my son wasn't there to help you chase the ducks--he's really good at it. On the other hand, it's fortunate that he wasn't there because then you would have been appalled not only at how vicious ducks can be to ducks, but also at how vicious three-year-old boys can be to ducks.

Valerie said...

When you come to visit, show me how to put my computer on bright, so I can watch the heroine move to save a duck. This is by far more exciting than Redbox!