Our pet duck
Why was Shana leaning out of the kitchen window at dusk yesterday evening and tossing out little pieces of bread?
Easy: it’s because we seem to have been ‘adopted’ by one of the local ducks.
Duck? Beaky freeloader more like.
We are only a couple of minutes’ walk away from the river here and often see swans and ducks flying past. This one, however, knows a good thing when he sees it — or rather, when it is thrown to him. As you can see from Shana’s photo, he looked as if he was going to settle down for the night. Just think of it: we could have opened the kitchen curtains first thing this morning only to find The Duck still there, looking up at us, expecting free corn flakes and quack quack, could you fix me a coffee…quack…while you’re about it?
Shana has named him Donald, but I tend to think of him as a Darren. Darren the Duck. (Or ‘Daz’ for short.)
Anyhow, he scarpered not long after this pic was taken. Scared of the local moggies, I’ll bet.
