We have some new pets in the family. Well, on second thought, "pets" may be a bit of an exaggeration.
For the last six weeks or so, we have been getting daily visits from "Mr. and Mrs. Duck". For a while they only stayed in the field next to our house, but in more recent days, have ventured closer and closer to the homestead. Now it's not uncommon for them to march right up onto our deck, stand next to our floor-to-ceiling windows, and peck their beaks on the glass, asking for their daily food allowance.
Taylor loves feeding the ducks - which, fortunately, provides all (rather, most) of the entertainment that a pet would, without the responsibility. And our only expense? 99 cent bread from the store every week. Not a bad deal.
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Samantha and her friend, Eve, found an orphan duckling at the beach one time. They HAD to bring it home and raise it, but we found out it is against the law to have ducks as pets, so the duckling went to the bird lady, who raised it and put it in some pond somewhere. We still look for it when we get around golf courses.
How does one define a "pet"?
Well, keeping it in your house and sleeping with it was our definition. Keeping it confined in your yard was the official definition. The bird lady was quite irrate that we had not brought it to her right away and had tried to keep the duck for about a week. I mean, it could have died! And we know that would have been a tragedy to humankind.
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