My entire family was terrified and huddled in a tight circle discussing whether or not Mom had finally snapped (for good) and whether burly men in white coats with soothing voices were needed.
Then they saw the bathroom, all doubts were cast aside, and there was much rejoicing!
Today, the kitchen and living room are on the list. (That’s right dust bunnies! You…me…noon with a broom. Last one standing wins!) But first, let me tell you a strange tale of what’s currently keeping The Girl out of her room.
Two night ago, The Boy poked his head in the front door, flinching before he even spoke. (That’s when you just KNOW it’s gonna be BAD!) He was tucking the birds in and heard the frighteningly familiar sounds of peeping. What he found was a hidden (dirty, rotten bleepity bleepin’ BLEEPS!) abandoned nest. Three tiny ducklings (yes, MORE of them!) had somehow hatched and were in the process of succumbing to hypothermia. Now, HOW they managed to hatch? No flippin’ clue! (Evidence sadly suggests a predator visit and lack of Mommy suggests…well, you get the picture. *sigh*)
Being the sucker I am, I stuffed them inside my hoodie and wandered the yard for a while searching for ANY “I-wanna-be-a-Mommy” duck I could find. Nope, no takers. (See? Muscovies can’t even stand themselves!)
So into the house they came. And this year I was NOT prepared for emergency baby-measures. So they ended up in a cat carrier in The Girl’s room, since they need to be kept around 90 degrees and her room’s like a sauna anyway.
The first night went great! They were newly hatched, sleeping off the trauma of emerging from their egg to a dark, uncaring world. Yesterday however, was another thing altogether!
THEY…WILL…NOT…SHUT…UP!!!
Unless someone is in the room holding them or talking to them, they are peeping their fool heads off. LOUDLY! So The Girl and I (and by “The Girl and I,” I mean mostly her) have been playing with them and talking to them to keep what’s left of our sanity intact.
Then I had the brilliant idea to place them in a box so they could “see” us and be comforted by our presence without actually being on a lap. What I forgot in that lovely equation is this; in the wild, Muscovies are hatched in nests built in hollows in trees. They have those evil little claws of theirs to enable them to CLIMB in said trees. (Did you catch that? They are born CLIMBERS!)
Yeah, the box idea did NOT work well. Unless you count playing “chase the ducky” as working.
Which is how I ended up sitting on the couch with three insanely peeping ducklings inside my hoodie. Again.
It was twilight and all the other evil ‘Scoves were massing outside in the front yard (and in the trees and on the roof) for the night and these three nuisances were “calling” like no body’s business! I actually got excited, thinking their Moms had reappeared and was hiss-squeaking her, “Where the fudge-rockets are you little brats?” call.
So I did something even MORE stupid than the box idea…(Yeah, my what-the-fudge-i-tude knows no bounds.) I stuffed all three little balls of fluff in my pocket and went outside hoping, nay, PRAYING I’d find a Mother I could dump them on return them to. What I found was pure creepiness!
There I stood with these three miniature Tasmanian Devil-birds calling for all their worth and climbing me like a tree. I swear, as fast as I could stuff one back in my pocket, another would scurry over the back of my hand and climb straight up the front of my hoodie, all the while SCREAMING for rescue from the love we’d been lavishing on them! (Ungrateful poop-machines!)
As I stood there, I noticed that the entire front yard had gone silent. EVERY Muscovy we have, male and female alike, had formed a circle around me. They were all silent, not moving a muscle. No hisses, no squeaks, none of the constant head-bob-things they do…just silent feathery statues with their beady, homicidal black eyes turned on me and the rotating cast of look-like-duckies-but-climb-like-friggin’-mice moving up and down my front.
The silence (except for the hyper-peeping) was eerie enough The Girl even came ‘round to see what the heck-y was going on! She watched a couple of rounds of “climb-grab-stuff-climb-grab-almost-drop-stuff” for a minute before she uttered a few unprintable words and walked off shaking her head.
After some minutes had determined there were no takers on the Mommy gig and I was becoming afraid for my life due to the Children of the Corn behavior from the others, I dejectedly went back in…and stuffed the little peepers back in their cat carrier and left the sauna-like room. Round #1 of peep-induced insanity? Went to the Duckies!
You know how they say it ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings? Well in this case it wasn’t over ‘til the crazy lady shouted large quantities of obscenities! Which occurred just as I was snuggling back down in my comfy couch-corner with my blankie…and discovered the “gift” the feathered bug-knockers had left in my hoodie pocket.
 |
| The adorable little scovies in the video? Yeah, less than a month later and THIS is what they look like! |
PS The video is per request by Kate. You're welcome!
