In Hannah’s absence, I’m in charge of her ducks, Puddles, Murphy, and Doodle. It’s taken most of the fall to get into a groove where they do what I want them to do. Mornings are easy – they see me through the French doors with Gidget, and they start complaining. I let them out feed and water them before heading off to work, and they spend the day noodling around. Over the last month, we finally fell into a good night-time routine. I call “Duckies! Time to go home!” and they dutifully hop out of the pond, waddle to their house, complaining all the while.

Today, they saw me coming and raced to the other side of the pond. I called and pointed to “home,” and they ignored me. As I made my way around the pond, they circled to the far side. I tossed sticks just behind them, trying to drive them in the right direction. My aim is not true, and they paddled, quietly quacking among themselves. I even brought out the big guns – Hannah’s super soaker squirt gun and aimed for their little ducky butts. They didn’t budge as I muttered “damn ducks” under my breath, once again circling the edge of the pond as best I could. It was another ten minutes before they let me herd them in for the night.

I have to wonder if it’s the loss of daylight savings time and the change in routine that’s to blame for tonight’s rebellion. It seems to be the excuse for everything else that’s been “off” today!