Odd Duck Out

Marilyn and I live on the east edge of Edmond, a section of town that is still largely undeveloped all the way to our City water supply of Lake Arcadia. Because of the numerous creeks, draws and stands of trees between us and Arcadia many forms of wildlife proliferate near our house. The newest addition to our menagerie is a group of four wild ducks.

I use the word new loosely. The ducks visited for the first time last summer and decided to stay, disappearing for a couple of the coldest months and reappearing along with the robins and daffodils this spring.

There were actually two groups of ducks last year and part of this year. One group included two males and a female, the other group two lone males. Both groups returned this spring but something happened to one of the males in the second group. The lone male in the second group attached himself to the other three ducks and remains so to this day, even if he isn’t well accepted.

The original three ducks allow the fourth to tag along, except when he gets too close to birdseed left for them by Marilyn (they also eat the cat’s uneaten hard food, at least the fish flavored variety). When Odd Duck tries to claim his share of birdseed one of the two males in the first group lowers its heads and chases him away, at least for a second or two. This is all strange because Odd Duck is the largest male. Odd Duck is slightly mistreated but he always manages to get his share of the goodies.

I’m sure you animal purists out there are saying we shouldn’t feed the ducks. Yes, we have changed the migratory and social pattern of these wild creatures, probably for ever. Still, altering the lives of four ducks likely has no effect on the species as a whole, or the ecosystem. The ducks have absolutely no fear of humans. This trust and total lack of fear is probably the reason our distant ancestors were originally able to domesticate these and other animals.

The ducks often fly away for hours, probably to Lake Arcadia where hundreds of other wild ducks congregate. I don’t know where they go but they are in our front yard every morning by seven and every evening by seven. Hmmm! Come to think of it I don’t know if we have them on a schedule or the other way around, and for that matter who’s domesticated whom.

Fiction South