When I was a teenager (surely only a few years ago) my parents owned a little cabin on the Kankakee River, about 50 miles from Chicago. Our family spent many weekends there during the summer and once in awhile had friends over for cookouts. It was during one of these get-together's that 'The Duck Incident' occurred.
Our cabin was located on a short channel along with 4 other cabins. The
One bright Sunday afternoon, as family and friends enjoyed a cookout, I had the bright idea to bring a loaf of bread out and feed those
The ducks started getting closer and closer. I tried throwing the bread farther away. No luck. The two in back would get the thrown bread as the other four advanced towards me. I tried backing up. No luck. The bread was almost gone by then. I threw the small crumbs remaining as far as I could. All 6 of those
You may wonder why, after escaping such a harrowing near-death attack, why would I get ducks? Well let me tell you that walking away from those little day-old peeping and fuzzy marshmallows is not something I'm capable of.
So here is the Felonious 4-pack on the day I brought them home (and before they showed just how felonious they would grow to be)...
The 4-pack is now about 7 weeks old and full of trouble.
Stayed tuned for tales of the Felonious 4-pack...
***Bread can be extremely harmful to ducks. Never feed any duck bread.
