Free At Last

After three weeks of yard-confinement,

the runner ducks were finally liberated yesterday.

Fingers are crossed that those nasty foxes do not make a return 

during daylight hours!

I opened the gate to their yard early yesterday morning and

all five waddlers with their six webbie toes apiece,

came jubilantly running out... tripping over their own feet and each other's as well.

They stopped for a nibble on the scratch that had been thrown for the guinea fowl

and then took off running in the direction of the upper pastures...

bills to the ground, searching for tasty bugs.

Another on-again-off-again storm rolled in, but the ducks kept going.

Later in the afternoon, I went searching for the five of them...

wanting to close them back in their yard for safety.

(We don't want to tempt fate, now, do we?)

I looked in their yard... no ducks.

I looked around the barn... no ducks.

"Chester, have you seen the ducks?"

"Now let me think..." he sighed, "hmmmmm.... nope."

I looked in the barn... two somnolent kitties had no clue.

"Moonie, have you seen the ducks?"

"Framphous shramgher," he replied.  

It's impossible to understand a Haflinger when he has a mouth-full

No one else would deign to answer my question...

they were all under the mystical spell of hay.

I checked the pig yard... nothing but guineas there.

I checked the goat yard... only goats.

(The chickens are still under confinement.)

I checked the front pasture.... pigs and sheep, but no sign of webbie toes.

With every inch of the farm searched, and a little worry in my soul,

I headed back to the duck yard for another look.

They were right where they had belonged.

Where they had been while I was looking for them, I will never know.

They do like to mess with me like that, sometimes.

"Ok, my fine feathered friends... March!"  said I,

and into their yard like penguins on a march, they went.

Safe... once again.