Click on first photo to enlarge all.
It was Duckie’s niece Hummie who first christened him “Duck,” when she was too little to pronounce “Doug.” I complicated the matter by calling him Duckie and since then, Ducks seem to have flocked into his life. From me, from our friends Gloria, Patty and Judy (posthumously) from another friend Nancy and from his friend Ann. Now, as you can see, he is being kept busy keeping his ducks in a row. You might recognize Little Duck of past blogging fame in this lineup.
I love what a duck does to the water that surrounds it. According to their movements, they sculpt it, setting up patterns and movements that make a lake a giant canvas for ducks. This duck paddled quickly all the way from one shore of the Guanajuato reservoir to to the other, hoping for a handout, no doubt. Sadly, I had nothing for it, and look at the wonderful photos it gave to me!
Some of you have been following the adventures of Big and Little Duck, but for those of you new to my blog, since Ragtag’s Daily prompt is “Duck”, this seems a good opportunity to catch you up on their history.
Here are some links to their past adventures:
Merely sculpted by the tide. One of nature’s wonders sculpted of flotsam and jetsam. Spotted on the beach at La Manzanilla four years ago!
For Ragtag’s “Duck” prompt.
Far be it from me to break the law by taking Little Duck out the the car in this Tennessee rest stop without a leash. He was indignant, but what’s a mother to do? Big Duck chose to stay in the car.
Please click on first photo to enlarge and see captions that will guide you through Little Duck’s typical day when in Mexico. (Please remember he now resides in Missouri. We miss him so.)
Thanks to okcforgottenman for the last photo of Little Duck off on a new adventure in Missouri. (Sob.) We miss both of our ducks down here in Mexico!!!
This posting is for Cee’s “Duck, Duck, Goose” challenge.
Bloggers know this, but today I’m just reminding us all that best friends need not always be close at hand or even living in the same country. I’m leaving in a few hours to fly back to Mexico. My bags are packed and for the first time, although they are stuffed to the zippers, I’m leaving the U.S. with the same number of bags with which I left Mexico. What I’m not taking back with me are all the close friends and relatives who have made the rigors of traveling worth it. Prime among them is someone you’ve gotten to know a bit during these last few weeks of my trip. A bit of an agoraphobe, he has nonetheless not only paid host to me in his home but has also driven me through six states to visit other loved ones. I release him now, back to his computer and the grass that I am sure he’ll be mowing tomorrow. Oh, and to Little Duck, for whom he has sole custody, while I merely have visiting rights. Although he goes by the name of okcforgottenman on his blog, he is far from forgotten.
If I were to choose from all the rest,
you are the one who’d ace the test.
You left your warm and comfy nest
to drive around at my behest.
I do not say it often, lest
you come to see me as a pest,
but though we tease and joke and jest,
you are the one I love the best.
The prompt word today was “test.”
One day Little Duck was bored, and although Big Duck was not bored at all, Little Duck decided he needed to be educated in the art of flying. “Just stretch your left wing out like this,” he instructed Big Duck. Of course, Big Duck had neither left wing nor right wing, so he stretched his left arm out as far as he could.
“Very good,” said Little Duck. Then, “Stretch out your right wing!” he quacked like a drill sergeant, in a very bossy tone. And so Big Duck stretched his right arm out as far as he could.
“Now, spread out your wing tip feathers and flap both wings at the same time,” demanded Little Duck; but try as he might, Big Duck just couldn’t do it.
Upon further investigation, Little Duck decided that aside from a failure to coordinate wing movements, there was a further complication that foretold that for Big Duck, flying lessons would never come to fruition,
for it seemed that in addition to malformed wings, Big Duck also lacked the webbed feet necessary for landing and propelling himself through water as well as the tail to serve as a rudder.
“Very strange indeed!” shouted Little Duck from waaaaay down on the floor, where he had gone to investigate the matter. “In fact, in spite of your name and the color of your feet, you seem to resemble this palefoot human standing right over here to my right more than you do a duck.”
“But I love you anyway,” Little Duck quacked at Big Duck, as he winged up to his shoulder to give him a reassuring peck on the cheek.
And, never one to give up on chances for adventure, Little Duck put on his thinking cap and tried to think of something Big Duck might be better able to accomplish. It was important after his last big failure that he give him a simple task more suited to his talents than flying seemed to be.
“Eureka!” he thought, and hopped up to share his idea with Big Duck, who at first looked somewhat dubious.
But, in his usual inimitable fashion, Little Duck persevered. “As a team, we are unbeatable,” he insisted. “With my creativity and great mind and your mutated feathers capable of maneuvering a keyboard, we could write great literature!” And so, after a great deal of quacking and what passed for quacking on Big Duck’s part, the two settled into a collaboration.
“It was a dark and stormy night,” lisped Little Duck.
“That sounds a bit trite to me,” countered Big Duck.
“Once upon a time,” quacked the littler of the two.
“Been done already,” Big Duck fired back.
“Duck!!!!!” shouted little Duck as he saw a wasp zeroing in on Big Duck’s ear.
“That sounds a bit better,” enthused Big Duck, and typed the first word of their document, complete with five exclamation marks and an ending quotation mark.
Knowing there was very little time for action, Little Duck soared through the air to Big Duck’s shoulder just in time to snap up the angry wasp in his martyred and heroic beak.
“What comes next?” asked Big Duck, totally unaware that he’d just been saved from his biggest fear by Little Duck.”Did you notice that I remembered the closing parenthesis?” He asked, pointing proudly at their first completed sentence. “Do you have an idea for the second sentence?”
“There was a wasp about to sting you on the ear and I saved you by catching it in my beak!” shouted Little Duck.
“Now who in the world is ever going to believe that?” protested Big Duck, and threw up his hand in defeat.
And that is how Little Duck’s Big Adventure never came to be written and why Big Duck’s name has not gone down in the history of literature, or even at the very least, in the blogger’s hall of fame.
What to do with leftover Little Duck photos on the way between St. Paul and St. Louis with Big Duck doing all the driving. I hit the publish button just as we arrived at the motel! Now that is timing.
Crave more Little Duck adventures? https://judydykstrabrown.com/2016/09/25/travels-with-ducks-the-continuing-saga-of-little-duck-episode-5/
Luckily, this photo of Little Duck trying to front seat drive Big Duck slipped through the crack of my earlier post. It must have known it really belonged in this “Which Way” post. Which way now, Little Duck? (Oops.. a few days later, I just noticed I did use this photo in the earlier tale of Little Duck’s adventures. Oh well, since he looks so selte in the photo, I guess I’ll leave it here as well.)