downpours, dead mice and demented ducks

I have come to the undeniable conclusion that I have a very odd existance. Not odd in a bad way…like, “Gee, did you eat a lot of paint chips as a child?” Or, “Wow, I don’t know what you’re on, but I’d like some of that.” No, odd in a different way. A sort of fun way, once I have a bit of distance from the day to look back on it. Like today. What a freaking weird day today turned out to be.

It started out normal…mundane really. My daughter was feeling sick, so after everyone else in the house had gone to work, she came storming into my room, fuzzy blanket in tow, and announced that she was sick, and bored, and would be watching TV in my room. This required a trip to the living room to swap out the only good batteries from the other Dish remote so we could actually watch TV in my room. Then, instead of getting a few hours of much needed sleep, I found myself watching Hairspray with my sick daughter…and the dog. Because the dog can’t have anyone in my bed unless he’s stretched out between us, making sure I’m completely safe from any sort of accidental arm brushing or nudging. So he slept on his back, head nestled in the pillow, snoring so loudly we had to crank up the sound to hear the musical. Right…this was the normal, mundane part of my day, remember?

I realized sometime after lunch that I hadn’t heard a peep (or a crow) out of our resident fugitive, the cocky rooster, Clooney, and I was worried my husband had secretly taken him out back and done away with him. He didn’t, but this is something I prepare myself for each day, even though I secretly think he’s starting to like him now that he’s getting so much attention on the web. So, yeah, keep up the pleas for Clooney, it might actually be sinking in.

So, once I discovered the chickens were in hiding and not the freezer, I set off on the rest of my exceedingly boring day. I read. I swept the dog hair and teddy bear fluff from the floors. And I ordered pizza because I hate to cook. Boring.

Then the storm hit.

It was practically a typhoon. I don’t know where it came from, but suddenly I was watching out the window for a witch on a broom, or something. I know…wrong storm, but it was seriously whipping up debris out there. My husband came bounding through the backdoor as if he was shot out of a cannon…a water cannon…and we proceeded to watch things blow around the backyard by the light of the intermittent lightning flashes.

I was worried about the flock. The last thing I wanted to see was my stupid rooster…the one I’ve been trying to save for days, or even weeks…suddenly splat into the window like a bug on a windshield. I was worried the ducks would drown. I’d heard about turkeys drowning in the rain, but are ducks as stupid as turkeys? I had no idea. It was pitch black outside, and the sound of the rain hammering the house would surely drown out a duck’s plea for help, so I was frantic. Well…mildly concerned maybe.

Then I saw them.

The crazy juvenile ducks, all clearly suffering from some form of avian ADHD, were dancing around the baby pool as it was pounded by rain. I could only see them as the sky lit up from above, but it was like watching some sort of freakish cult, dancing circles around the baby pool as if they were planning to sacrifice a virgin or something.

Once I could tear my eyes away from the spectacle outside, I heard one of the girls yelling that the cat had snagged another mouse in the back hallway. I was secretly hoping they were dragging them in from the yard, as cats often do. I didn’t want to think they were doing their jobs and hunting mice inside the house, but there it was.


I have freaking mice on top of everything else this house has to offer. The ghosts, the flies, the spiders, the horrible plumbing, the scary basement…not enough. No, I had to have mice too. Well, at least I have cats, right? And damn fine hunters too. They’ve bagged three of those suckers in the past week alone, and it’s only Wednesday. My third least favorite day of the week, by the way. And after the day I’ve had, I might have to upgrade it a few notches. At least temporarily.

Until the next time…I’ll be buying special treats for my kitties!

Copyright © 2000-2018, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.
Posted on August 2, 2012 .