January 14, 2005 :: 1:08 a.m.
what do you do with a duck?
I want to pick up some shiny star stickers (and, um, a calendar to put them on) so I can give myself a little shiny happy reward whenever I exercise. I think it would motivate me. I like stars. I like shiny things. I LOVE stickers. I want my weeks to be chock full of them. Ergo, star stickers on the calendar. But first I have to get them. Until then, it's just a beautiful dream.
And today would totally have a great big star all over it, too. I went jogging at Long's Park, and it was just a really wonderful time. Gorgeous weather - around 60, I think - and all the birds were just loving it. Squawking up a storm and doing this funny little dance where the duck would kind of hunch his neck down, dunk his head into the water, dunk his tail into the water, and then shake off and start all over. It was adorable. I wanted to hug them all.
Aww, but especially this one little duck. Well, actually he was kind of a big duck. But still. There was something wrong with his foot - the flat bottom part was all shriveled like old lettuce, and he kept it up off the ground and hobbled around. It broke my heart. And you know, I want to help the poor thing. I just don't know what I can do, or even if I should do anything. Who do you call about an injured duck? A wild duck, not a pet that lives in your backyard.
I've sort of been through this before, but the experience doesn't help in this case. When I was younger I found a crow lying on a pair of railroad tracks near my house. He was alive, but he couldn't walk, or really fly. I picked him up and took him home, padded a big cardboard box with towels, and laid him inside. I fed him with an eyedropper for a day or so, until my mom and I were able to take him someplace. A few days before, my mom had read an article in the local section of the paper about a woman who took in and rehabilitated injured wildlife, and after a few phone calls that's where my little crow ended up. He must have fallen onto the tracks for whatever reason, because he had a broken hip. The woman fixed him up and a while later we went back out there to see him set free.
That's how it went down before. But I can't catch a duck. Not even a lame duck. And even if I did manage it, could I do it without hurting him more, or, like, severely traumatizing him? And even if I did, in some miraculous feat of swift and gentle duck-catching, manage to get him into a box, I can't keep a duck in my apartment. That crow cawed quite a bit, even as hurt as he was. I'm not even allowed to have a cat; I don't think my landlord or my neighbors would take very kindly to an injured, agitated duck quacking incessantly in my living room. And I mean, what would I do with him? I tried to find some kind of wildlife services or something, but I couldn't. And the Humane Society might take him, but for all I know they'd put him to sleep or, hey, turn me away.
And then there's the question of whether or not I should do anything at all. I've never seen this duck before, but that doesn't mean he got hurt just recently. There are seriously hundreds of ducks at Long's Park, and I'm sure new ones come and go all the time. I saw 3 flocks of geese splashdown just in the hour I was there. Or if it is one of the "regular" ducks, maybe he didn't get hurt at all. I mean, to me it looked like someone ran over his foot with a car, but who knows? Maybe he was born that way. He was limping, but he managed to get around, or up and over, a 6-foot fence and into a different pond well enough. He looked healthy, otherwise.
See? I have no idea. No freaking idea. And I can't stop thinking about it.
GAH.
Also, advice?
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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