When I was fourteen years old, my brother, sister, and I became the proud owners of three white ducks...Jinx, Dixie, and Pal.
Small as they were at the beginning, they started growing by leaps and bounds, and became so territorial that our dog, Buckshot, didn't stand a chance of being able to cross the yard without one of them taking off after him with flapping wings and a beak wide open! The poor dog finally started a routine of circling around the house first as though scouting out their location before determining which door he would come to and frantically scratch at!
Besides being territorial, we soon learned that if you chase a duck when he is small, he will run from you. But he will REMEMBER, and the rules will change drastically when that same duck grows up!
Needless to say, we were doomed! Our ducks were so feisty that even the neighbor kids couldn't come into our yard without first running for their lives! These three white hooligans would hide in tall grass or behind a building, and sabotage the first person who came within fifty feet of them. Every one of us kids became extremely fast at climbing a tree in a moment's notice!
Jinx, Dixie, and Pal also learned what the school bus looked and sounded like! This trio of mayhem would watch to see which end of our driveway the bus driver would drop us off at and then make a beeline for whatever group of kids were there just standing around. They never stood there for very long!
Because we had an h-shaped driveway, we could usually see where the Terrible Three were before the bus driver finished applying his breaks, and many a time this poor old gentleman had to listen to our almost-hysterical cries of "no...not here...go to the OTHER end!".
But after just a few times of being tricked, these ducks figured out what we were doing because they started waiting up by the house until the bus came to a complete stop! THEN they would start down that side of the driveway where they knew they had us!
The neighbors living to the left of us became very accustomed to watching us run through part of their land...climb the stone wall...jump over an old wood pile...run around the back of the barn...and make a beeline for the back door of the house.
The neighbors to the right of us, though, were probably placing bets on just which kid would "make it" to the house because the only thing we had going for us on that side of the driveway was tall grass and a cherry tree. And it was a long way to run before finally making it to that tree! At best, we had fifty-fifty odds!
Jinx, Dixie, and Pal lived with us for quite some time...Pal finally leaving this world at the ripe old age of ten...and during all those years of futile attempts on my part to make peace, he remained steadfast in his belief that to know me was to chase me.
Today whenever I see a child chase after birds, all I can think of is, "Yeah...right. Go ahead and open THAT can of worms!"
They will remember.
