5 1/2 Months Late

I have ducks that go by the names of Jake, Finn, and TreeTrunks. They are my Adventure Ducks and here is their story.

Once upon a time a lonely college student (that’s me) in her last year of school lived in a homey apartment with her dear boyfriend (DBF). Two months into the lease and we just knew something was missing. But what was it? We had a bookcase, the walls were covered with Star Wars propaganda, and the back patio garden actually had some potential. Seems like a legit life buuuut we needed something else. Something to spruce up our lives a bit more. We decided a duck was the answer.

At first it was a joke. Our homey apartment allowed birds only so obviously a duck was the only reasonable choice. As I Googled and Pintrested ducks all day long, my heart yearned for the little fluffy fellows. And so the quest began.

For days I’d pester my DBF with potential names for the cute little duck that was soon to come. They were wild and outlandish!  He’d Ok a few, veto the others, and I’d add them to a list, waiting to bestow the best name for the little twerp once I met him. Or her. I honestly didn’t care.

Upon Googling, the internet told me that two ducks would be best because like any living creature, they get lonely. The DBF agreed and the naming list grew twice as fast. My younger sister back home has these perky little animals called Silkie Chickens. She’s had them for a few years once she convinced my parents that they were just too cool to not have. They look like feather dusters from the 80’s. Minus the fanny pack. Anyways, I considered  her a professional on the matter and asked her where do I find two ducklings. She said the feed store, why of course!

So my DBF and I drove all the way home to visit my family and to acquire me some ducks. The drive was the longest 3 hours of my life. Every cloud in the sky looked like a duckling! I was beyond excited. We pick up my sister, we take her to the feed store, and she says the ducklings and chicks are inside. I run inside and all I see are chicks. Baby chickens in every brooder. Those sharp beaks  pierced my heart with disappointment. Damn chickens. I silently vowed to eat chicken for dinner that night. The store manager said “they get them when they get them, and today, they just don’t got them.”

Outside, my sister was playing with the goats as a green truck pulled up. The store manager walked out, spoke some words to the man, and took out three full grown ducks. They went inside, probably to exchanged some money, and I was left outside, hatching a plan to get me some ducks. Still upset at my failure, I looked to my phone for the answer. Luckily, technology was invented during this point of my life, and I clicked the farm section in Craigslist.

Much to my surprise, a listing of a few hours said they had 3 two week old ducklings for sale as well as 3 full grown ducks! I jumped for joy and called that number as fast as I could. I danced a little jig to the ring tones and moved out of the way as that green truck sped off; dude’s on his cell phone and driving crazy. A man answers and I get straight to the point, “I want your ducks!” Then I calmly explain that I saw the posting and I am extremely interested in those ducklings. He says, “well sorry little lady, I just dropped all those ducks off at the feed store.” I gave my brain three seconds to piece everything together before running back inside and finding three fluffy fluff balls  chirping like crazy in a brooder full of chicks.

We had intended on two ducks, buts its just plain cruel to leave one baby duck all by his lonesome. So I gathered up the three babies, paid the man his 6 dollars, and so began the cutest adventure of my life. I’m now writing about it 5 1/2 months late.Image


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s