Meet Anais. She’s trouble. We’re changing her name to Houdini.

When I was traveling a couple of weeks ago, Phil sent me an email with the simple header “Escapee” about a then-unnamed Khaki Campbell getting out while the ducks were still living in our basement. It was Anais. Thanks to her, he had to cover their trough with chicken wire to prevent future escapes.

Last weekend, after I’d talked a friend into watching the ducks while we went camping overnight, I went into the garage where the ducks were now living, and the trough contained three ducks, with Anais standing next to it. So I had to secure the ends of the chicken wire covering by upending some of Sylvia’s play chairs over each side, and explain to my friend that she, heh-heh, might be spending some time chasing down the ducks I told her were no trouble at all.

This morning, following the second night the ducks have officially lived in their coop, I let them out, refilled their water, filled the baby pool they swim in, got the kids breakfast, drank half a cup of coffee, lazily looked out the dining room window, and saw the ducks all huddled near the gate of the fenced enclosure. But something was wrong.

You know when you see a bug on a screen, and it takes you a second to figure out whether the bug is inside or outside the screen? I noticed there was no fencing in front of Anais. Don’t know how she got out, but there she was on the wrong side of the fence, her buddies trying to talk her through it.

So I went out, in my nightgown, and chased her. Tried to bribe her with chard. Tried to herd her back in. Yelled at whatever kid let the dog out to Take. Pepper. Inside. NOW. I’m very thankful our yard has a privacy fence.

I finally nabbed her, and she was very annoyed with me until she realized I was taking her where she wanted to go… back with her friends. Because ducks really are pack animals. They don’t like being separated. Every time she slips out, she stays close to whatever atrocity she escaped, desperate to get back in, while her buddies desperately quack at her.

Today Phil stuck some flimsy wire garden border fence in the ground inside the gate, which should be enough to discourage any more excursions. Beware, Anais. Unspeakable evil awaits outside the wall.


6 thoughts on “Escapee

  1. Pingback: Duck Rustlin’ | The Christmas Plan

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