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Every so often, I hear panicked quacking. I rush out to the porch and inevitably find the ducks have managed to separate themselves from their chosen pack. (The three bachelors in one pack, Mr. Duck and his two ladies in the other.) They get in the goat yard then they can’t remember how to get back out. One is separated from the other two and life is not worth living, it’s that desperate and pathetic.

The separation is unbearable, I tell you, UNBEARABLE. There is PANIC. And RUCKUS.
I can’t bear it, either. I have to help. I have to get them together again! The ducks, they are in a panic! (The chickens could teach them a thing or two about calmly finding a spot where you can fit under the gate….. That is, if the chickens and ducks were speaking to each other. They’re not.)
Yesterday, with two of the bachelors inside the goat pen and one outside, I chased the two around the doghouse that the goats used to like to sleep in but which has recently fallen apart, trying to get them to head out of the pen.

I stepped on a rusty nail in the process. Falling apart doghouse = hazard! (It has now been removed.)
(And yes, I was wearing shoes.)
I had the door between the goat pen and the goat yard shut so the other animals couldn’t get in and I had the door between the goat pen and the side yard propped open with my rooster rake.

The door was propped open and yet they just kept standing there.

QUACKING.

Ducks are so hard to help.

They are SEPARATED! The world as they know it has come to an end! Life will never be the same! Oh wait–

A WAY OUT! Off he went…..

….leaving the third one behind because he couldn’t figure out how that just happened.
What we have here is a failure to communicate.

The third duck, watching his two friends disappear. Because they don’t care about him. They’re together! Ducks can be so brutal. And I stepped on a rusty nail for them and everything. And then–

It’s a MIRACLE!!!

But where did his friends go? PANICKED QUACKING. They’ve left him! Disappeared! His life is OVER.

WAIT! There they are. WHEW. Life can go on.

Unless you just stepped on a rusty nail and you’re GOING TO DIE because you haven’t had a tetanus shot.
And then I called the doctor’s office. Because I want to live.
Five minutes later. PANICKED QUACKING. Mr. Duck. Separated from his two ladies.

I refused to help them. R.E.F.U.S.E.D.
I felt guilty. I decided I had to help them. Doctor’s appointment, schmocter’s appointment.
Then the girls found their way through the fence and straight back into Mr. Duck’s arms. On their own. I think they’re messing with me.

Doctor: “How did this happen?”
Me: “I was chasing my ducks around the goat pen and there’s this doghouse that’s falling apart–”
Doctor: “You were chasing dogs?”
Me: “No, ducks. It was just a doghouse. There was a donkey and a sheep and a bunch of chickens there, too, but they weren’t involved. Well, the goats weren’t really involved either. It was just their goat pen and their doghouse. But it was the ducks I was chasing. They were upset because they were separated.”
(long pause)
Doctor: “So how are you saying this happened again?”
Me: “I was saving a child from a fire.”
Posted by Suzanne McMinn on September 1, 2009Registration is required to leave a comment on this site. You may register here. (You can use this same username on the forum as well.) Already registered? Login here.
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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I love your ducks. And your stories about your ducks. And your stories about any and all of your animals, now that I think about it. Your farm rocks!!
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4:31
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And there’s another thing for the list of living on a farm….keep the tetanus shots up! My parents lived by the Epsom Salts when it came to one of us kids stepping on a nail…I’m not sure about it, but our foot always got stuck in a bucket of Epsom salt water…..I’m just glad we had to have those shots for school!
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Rooster rake – thats soo funny
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Thank You for the wonderful stories.
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I’ve stepped on nails twice. Once I stepped on a nail taking apart some theater scenery after the play had ended, the other was helping get rid of some construction debris. And I, too, was wearing shoes, in fact, with the construction stuff, I had been barefooted and went back inside to put on shoes. Took two steps outside and you guessed it! You wouldn’t think that that would happen – with SHOES ON!
Hope it feels better soon.
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I’m sure the ducks are messing with you too. Animals are like that
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joy c. at grannymountain
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I love it!!! !! ! Duckies and chickies… paradise.
(I wish I did live on a farm, though….)
<3,
Jaxxy. =)
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Scared for life it was an experience similar to yours.I hope your recovery comes quickly and that you won’t need a 12 step program or and intervention to find normalcy in your life.
I enjoyed your story, hoping the child your saved is doing well….and that your doctors hearing problem has been treated..lol
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