Published April 19, 2011
Some people have grubs in their lawn. Some people have rabbits that eat their flowers. I have ducks that poop in my pool.
No, it’s not by design. Why would I want that?
See, we live on a lake. Why one would live on a lake AND have a pool is beyond me, but the house came that way when we bought it. It’s a lovely home, and I have a gorgeous view from my voiceover studio window out over the lake. But…I have ducks.
Well, two of them anyway. Beautiful Mallards that flew in from posing for a Conservation Convention, I presume.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I like ducks. I just don’t want them pooping in my pool. I know, I know, they’re just looking for a comfortable place to swim, and tainting the water is just a natural way of life for them. But it’s my pool. And there’s a whole lake fifteen feet from the deck.
Last night I finally decided to do something about it. L’Orange and Pate, as I’ve come to know them, landed on the deck at their regular time. They walked around on the deck, I guess to make sure I’d done a good job cleaning it up. Then they stood at the edge of the pool, waiting for whatever signal ducks wait for to jump in.
I strolled out to the pool and started talking to them, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t hear me. I told them in no uncertain terms that they were no longer welcome to swim in my pool since they obviously had no manners and found it necessary to relieve themselves in my pool that I worked so hard to maintain and keep clean.
They just quacked and started walking away from me.
“Look, I know this is hard to understand, but this isn’t your pool. And we don’t allow the kids to pee in it, and we’re sure not going to allow you to poop in it,” I said, as I walked menacingly toward them.
Suddenly, as if they understood, they both quacked and took off toward the lake.
Now, I’m not dumb. I knew they would try to come back after dark. Mallards can be so dishonest. So, I was ready.
I hid out in the shadows by the pool with my killer broom. I’ve never used it on a duck, but there is a breaking point…
Sure enough. There they came flying back onto the deck under the cover of darkness. Insidious little beasts.
“Aha!” I said, lurching out of my hiding spot. “Did you really think I would believe you? Listen, a duck that will poop in your pool, will come back in secret to sabotage you. I know how you are.”
They just looked quizzically at me pretending they had never seen me, and had no idea what I was talking about.
“Do not mock me!” I cried, and ran threateningly at them swinging my broom.
Ducks have an apparent survival instinct that I had not read up on. Suddenly they flapped their wings and dove into the pool to get away from me!
“Oh, no! OH NO! Don’t even think that’s gonna work,” as I ran to the other side of the pool.
They immediately swam to the other side of the pool and just quacked at me.
Now, after years of observing ducks, I don’t completely understand them, but there are some things that I can pick up on. And one of the things I clearly understood was the lady duck asking the guy duck what he was going to do about it.
And all he said was, “Back off, Myrtle, it’s a fat guy with a broom. He’ll probably keel over any minute with a heart attack and we’ll be fine.”
That did it.
A rage within me suddenly began to boil. A silent scream in the night. I thought back to all those hours I’d spent sweeping and vacuuming the pool, treating it to keep it clean, caring for it so my neighbors would be jealous. I snapped.
“IF YOU CRAP IN THAT POOL I’M JUMPING IN TO GET IT AND SHOVE IT UP WHERE ITCAME FROM!”
Two startled ducks frantically flapped their wings and quacked in horrific fear, realizing their lives were in eminent danger. Suddenly the lake made much more sense than this LakeNess Monster, and they duck-cussed me as they lifted off…
…and then they pooped in my pool.
Today I’ve spent a lot of time just gazing into the pool. I have no words to express the utter helplessness I sense. A few hours ago I got out the pool broom and vacuum system to clean up my defeat.
The moral of the story?
Oh, never mind. Make up your own. I have work to do.
Sometimes you lose to a duck.