Duck saga continues as it explores its world

By Keith Ross | The Daily Journal

Published Saturday, June 16, 2007

Welcome back to the bark side of life here in Ottertail where I've had a few visitors this week and they got to see what I mean when I say, “The bark side of life.”

We have kennels down the hill from the house and all three were in good voice and the three behind the house were echoing their sentiments as well.

Our matriarch, Lara Mee, was front and center gobbling up any affection that might come her way.

Our guests were quite impressed that within minutes all was calm and serene. Such is life here at Rosswood.

Last week I didn't continue with the “I am a duck” mini-series and opted for a trip down memory lane with Colin and Bruno and an unsuspecting tabby.

I even received a post card concerning what happened to Daffy from an anonymous reader who seemed concerned that I wouldn't continue that tale. All is well.

I chose to run a tale in between segments just to keep the suspense going. Evidently I shouldn’t have. Daffy's dilemmas continue on through to the end. Here's this week's edition of Bernice Dalluge's “I am a duck.”

I AM A DUCK - PART 2

My name is Daffy and maybe my new family named me that because I do things that make them laugh.

One day after all the breakfast dishes were removed from the table and my new parents were drinking their second cup of coffee, one of the girls (Delaine) picked me up off the floor and put me on the table for all to see. I loved it.

I made it over to mother's cup and I climbed on inside it. It was warm and cozy. They all seemed to like that but I was removed from the cup before I had a chance to see if I could get out on my own.

One day, the three daughters, Dianne, Delaine, and Sharon, were painting the barn and there was this inviting looking pail of white paint that looked good to nibble on.

It was white and smooth but it tasted funny. I tried it a few more times before Diane and Delaine rushed over to the well and washed the latex paint off my bill, which washed off and they were happy.

Sometimes when I was placed in the pen, the family had fashioned for me (which I hated because I was lonely for people), the girls would come and get me and take me to the tank where they watered the cattle.

The sun had warmed up the water and I loved to swim and go under water and play for a long time.

Finally when I was older and my brown feathers were almost all fully grown, I was allowed to be out of the garden pen and on my own during the day.

My wing feathers weren't grown yet so I didn't fly around, I had to waddle like a duck.

I will have to tell you about the poodle, Dusty, that lived here. He was a small dog, but to me he looked enormous. He was only six months old when I came to live here.

At first, I was a little frightened by the dog but I soon found out that he wouldn't hurt me. Then I took advantage of his good nature and would pull on his long floppy ears.

Many times I had hair sticking out of my bill that I had pulled from his ears, but he wouldn't bite me.

Sometimes I would pretend that I wanted his bone that he was gnawing and he would growl and even snap at me but I could tell he really didn't want to hurt me. We became very fond of each other.

In the next edition of my story, I will tell you all about how I learned to fly. So I will have to say “Quack Quack Quack” (which in duck means see you later)!

We'll have more of Daffy's autobiography in the up coming editions of “Tales.”

We still have the “best critter tales” contest going on. Big thanks to our sponsors: Wal-Mart, Dave Peters Jewelers, The Country Store, The City Bakery, Coopers Technology, Don Pablo's, and Dan's Vacuum sales and service.

You can send in your tale to me info@rosswoodkennels.com or Keith Ross, Richville MN 56576 or phone it in at 218-495-2195. Until Next Time.

Keith Alan Ross writes from his home in New York Mills.