Thom vs. Duck

As the kids and I had the day off yesterday we accompanied my wife in her volunteer work at the local animal sanctuary. I was assigned to clean out water bowls and troughs in a certain section. The first order of business was a wading pool that the geese like to swim in. As I was working on emptying it so I could scrub it out I would be visited by various pairs of geese. I couldn’t tell if they were cussing me out for taking their water away or for not hurrying faster in replacing it, but they clearly weren’t happy with me. But for all the reputation geese have of being ornery and territorial, they didn’t bother me. They would waddle up right next to me to where I could have petted them had I cared to risk it, but they didn’t do anything more than squawk.

It was the same with the roosters in the first pen I cleaned. They did their own thing, sometimes passing right next to me, but not really caring that I was there. The same could not be said for a white duck in the next pen. He took an immediate dislike to me, and would attack at every opportunity. At first I tried to fend him off because I didn’t care to find out if he could actually hurt me. But after he got through my defenses and attacked the cuff of my jeans and pecked at my hiking boots I decided he wasn’t much of a threat.

I found, however, that my ego was not taking it so well. Who did this fowl little creature think he was taking me on? Couldn’t he tell I was much bigger and stronger than he was? Couldn’t he tell I was showing great restraint in not retaliating with more than a nudge with the foot? Indeed, couldn’t he see that he was making it incredibly difficult not to hurt him by accident? No, this duck was clearly not respecting my size or authority. Nor was he being particularly grateful for the clean water I was trying to provide him. Ornery little critter!

Eventually the duck became distracted with some mud that seemed to be yielding something rather tasty. I was able to get their wading pool cleaned and refilled, at which point they (there were several ducks in the pen, but he was the only one that gave me any notice) ignored me entirely. After I moved on to the next pen I realized I had missed one water bowl in the duck’s pen. I went back to empty it, clean it, and refill it. While I cleaned it my little irritant returned, but it appeared he was mainly interested in the mud I created when some of the water spilled, so I focused on cleaning.

Next thing I knew his orange bill came darting in and grabbed my finger. It surprised me more than anything; surprised that he’d caught me off guard, surprised that it didn’t hurt at all. As aggressive as he was, he really couldn’t do anything to me.

It strikes me as fascinating: of all the animals on the farm, including a fair number with far pointier beaks or other sharp parts, the only one that wanted to attack me was the one that couldn’t really hurt me. They even have emus there, whose kicks can put someone in the hospital. They have several horses, large pigs, and a couple of massive long-horned cattle who could crush you entirely by accident. But no, it’s the harmless little duck you’ve got to watch out for. (There’s also a turkey that seems to have taken a shine to me, but…that’s another story entirely.)

I could, of course, draw all sorts of parellels to humans, especially humans on the Internet. But I’ll let you think about it yourself if you’re so inclined. I’m pretty sure we all have ducks and little dogs in our lives.