Wednesday, May 06, 2015

baby ducks



 

 

Well my dear ones,

 

A few days ago, I was driving home

when I saw something in the middle of the road;

it looked like a big lump

with a bunch of tiny things jumping on it.

 

As I got closer, I saw that it was a mother duck

and her five baby ducklings.

 

Momma had been hit by a car;

she was on the yellow lines between lanes,

and she was trying to shoo her babies to safety,

but they were too scared to leave her.

 

I pulled over to try and help her,

which meant I blocked half the road,

since it’s a two lane road

with high curbs on both sides.

 

I picked up Momma in my sweatshirt

and brought her to the grass on the roadside;

the babies followed,

but then too off into the woods.

 

I was holding the Momma duck,

and stroking her head,

speaking softly to her.

She got agitated whenever her babies called out;

I could see she was frustrated;

she knew she was dying,

yet her concern was for her babies;

she knew I was trying to help her,

but she kept motioning toward her little ones;

it was clear she was trying to communicate to me,

“Help my babies!”

 

I prayed, “God help me!

I don’t know what to do!”

 

Within a minute,

two women showed up to help.

 

The Momma duck died,

but not alone;

I was holding her,

praying for a place for her in Deep Heaven.

And I promised to help her babies.

 

I buried Momma,

and then we focused on catching the babies.

 

 

One woman used her shawl to net two of them;

she said she already had some ducks at home

and would take those two home as well,

so she left with them.

 

I used my sweatshirt to net another duckling;

however, the last two crawled under a fence

and got away.

 

The second woman called DNR

(basically, wildlife services);

she said she worked with animal rescue

and would get help for the little spuds.

 

We left her daughter holding the duckling

while her Mom and I looked for the other two.

 

We could hear them, but they were in hedges

in a private neighborhood.

 

Back near our two cars,

a S.W.A.T. guy pulled up and started talking

with the girl holding the duckling.

 

Turns out, on weekends, the S.W.A.T. guy

is also the DNR guy.

He was a cool dude;

even though the ducks were Mallards,

and technically, could not be kept as pets,

he was good with the fact that

one woman had taken two;

he just asked if I trusted

that she was on-the-level

when she said she’d raise them.

I vouched that, yes, she was cool,

and seemed like she honestly

just wanted to help.

 

I petted the little duckling goodbye

before he put it in a box

(still in my shirt for warmth,

 and because it still had

 scent from Momma

 to help keep the little spud calm).

 

Then the S.W.A.T. guy thanked us

for helping, and said

he had it all under control,

and that he would go into

that private neighborhood

and get the other two babies

(using the cries of the one in the box

  to help draw them out).

 

*shrugs*

 

The dude was like 6’6” and 260 lbs,

like a Marine Corps recruiting poster!

I couldn’t foresee him having anyone

prevent him from getting those ducklings;

I’m sure he got them all to a safe place. =D

 

[I didn’t have my camera with me;

 but all 5 of them were about 4” tall,

 and pretty much looked just like this:

 


 

i.e. Too cute for their own fuzz!]

 

 

I said goodbye to Mom (Christie)

and her daughter (Ashley)

then headed home to tell my wife.

 

The last thing I said to the little

duckling was,

“I’m sorry, Babykins;

 I don’t know why God allowed

 your Momma to die,

 and why you’ll have to

 grow up without a mother;

 but at least you’re safe now,

 like I promised her.”

 

Thank you, Christie, Ashley,

and anonymous lady!

You were all an answer to prayer.

 

And you helped me keep my promise

to that Momma duck.

 

 

Have a great week. =)

 

grace, peace, and love to you,

dave

 

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