Names have been changed to protect the dignity of the guilty.
I let my ducks out like usual this morning, and then IT happened. My sweet, adorable, well-loved, well fed drake found a disgusting little dead mouse (my chickens are famous for killing mice and then leaving them around the yard in the worst spots). So he runs over, picks it up, and then with pride he comes over to show me. Like any sane human being I run away screaming like a little girl until I’m at a safe distance and yell at him “no, that’s disgusting, leave me alone!” He was quite hurt that I didn’t appreciate his snack offering and went on to try and console himself by eating it.
Mr. Grossbeak, as we shall call him, was so happy with himself he walked over to me filling water (desperately trying to forget what just transpired) to get a beak bump. I immediately knew I had to do something other than run from him every time I went outside; but what! Finally the solution appeared, I needed to clean his mouth out. So off to the cleaning cabinet I rushed and immediately found lye soap I mean the real good stuff. Like you will never cuss around grandma again good stuff. Mr. Grossbeak deserved it. So I grabbed my hazmat suit and stomped out to grab the cleanliness offender and maintain my level of sanitation. After an epic struggle and a few broken bones his beak was as dirty as ever. I was blacking out from the pain of my injuries and decided to head to the ER of course forgetting the soap on the porch. I returned home and was deciding whether I had to sell this duck or wear a hazmat suit every lock-up time from now on. As my mind was going over the possibilities mr. Grossbeak quacked his way onto the porch in complaint of his late nighttime feeding and found something to temporarily satiate his appetite... the entire bar of soap. I was shocked, and a bit worried at the amount, but now at least I have my duck back, even if he’s turning white...
I let my ducks out like usual this morning, and then IT happened. My sweet, adorable, well-loved, well fed drake found a disgusting little dead mouse (my chickens are famous for killing mice and then leaving them around the yard in the worst spots). So he runs over, picks it up, and then with pride he comes over to show me. Like any sane human being I run away screaming like a little girl until I’m at a safe distance and yell at him “no, that’s disgusting, leave me alone!” He was quite hurt that I didn’t appreciate his snack offering and went on to try and console himself by eating it.
Mr. Grossbeak, as we shall call him, was so happy with himself he walked over to me filling water (desperately trying to forget what just transpired) to get a beak bump. I immediately knew I had to do something other than run from him every time I went outside; but what! Finally the solution appeared, I needed to clean his mouth out. So off to the cleaning cabinet I rushed and immediately found lye soap I mean the real good stuff. Like you will never cuss around grandma again good stuff. Mr. Grossbeak deserved it. So I grabbed my hazmat suit and stomped out to grab the cleanliness offender and maintain my level of sanitation. After an epic struggle and a few broken bones his beak was as dirty as ever. I was blacking out from the pain of my injuries and decided to head to the ER of course forgetting the soap on the porch. I returned home and was deciding whether I had to sell this duck or wear a hazmat suit every lock-up time from now on. As my mind was going over the possibilities mr. Grossbeak quacked his way onto the porch in complaint of his late nighttime feeding and found something to temporarily satiate his appetite... the entire bar of soap. I was shocked, and a bit worried at the amount, but now at least I have my duck back, even if he’s turning white...
