D. J. Sweetenham Guest Columnist

Solo arrives

  One morning, as we (that is Sam, Dee and I) were getting ready to go visit with our friend Doc, I heard a cheery “Hey, Don” and looked up to see my neighbor, Pam, the Duck Lady, walking one of her dogs. I put the Kids in the car so they wouldn't cause a fuss with the other dog and then joined Pam for a few moments. She asked me if I had noticed a stray white Pekin duck at our early morning feeding time. I told her that I had noticed something unusual way out on the outskirts of the feeding frenzy that morning but as it was just before dawn, the light was too dim for me to identify it. Whatever it was, it was too shy to come in close enough to get any food and it didn't hang around very long after. She told me that it was not one of her Pekins but a stray which had suddenly appeared. She thought it was probably released on the lake by someone who had been given the duckling at Easter and it had just become too much trouble to look after when it became an adult. She said she had been able to give it some food and hoped that it would soon get accustomed to mixing in with the other wild birds.

   The next morning I looked out for the lone Pekin and again found her on the far edge of the pack. This time I made a real effort to throw food her way and she managed to snatch a few pieces without coming in closer. She must have enjoyed the few morsels which she managed to gobble up because after that, she found enough courage to barge her way through the crowd of smaller ducks, and even geese, to get her fair share.

   It took no more than a couple of days until Solo, as Pam named her, overcame her fears and joined in the morning mealtime melee and she now holds her own, pushing and shoving her way through the crowd to get her breakfast. She has a loud, distinctive “quaaark”, which she doesn't hesitate to use if I am a little late in the morning, by her reckoning. She has also taken up a leadership role with about a dozen or so female Mallards who follow behind her when she paddles away.  It looks a bit like the Lake Ladies Club. So that's what LLC stands for. I've always wondered!

  That was about two weeks ago and Solo, along with her “entourage,” was a daily participant at our morning gatherings, but I hadn't seen her for several days. When I called Pam to find out if she knew where Solo was she mentioned that she had seen her that day at her dock. Pam said that she seemed to be injured. There were scars on her head and one eye appeared to be closed. Pam had tried to reach Solo to put some antibiotics on the eye, which she kept handy to treat any injuries which might happen to her ducks, but because of the work being done on the dam, the water level in the lake is down and she couldn't reach her. I called Pam again today to see if she intended to go to the Heritage Writers Group meeting next Tuesday evening and I asked if she had any news about Solo. It seems that Solo is feeling much better, and Pam has positioned a small dog kennel near the ramp from the lake up to her yard so that Solo can have shelter. I just can't help wondering how she hurt herself or did someone take a stick to her. It takes a special kind of coward to abuse any creature like that.

  Well, Solo still hasn't come back to my dock for breakfast since her accident and I'm beginning to think it may be a combination of low water in the lake and the fact that a new resident has purchased the house where Lucy, the white goose, used to live. Maybe things will settle down again after the new owner moves in and the lake returns to a normal depth, sometime next month, I believe.

  D.J. Sweetenham, originally from England, is the author of Bumps in the Road and Bumps in the Road - Part Two, highlights of his interesting and far-flung life. A member of the Heritage Writers Guild, D.J., his wife, and two small dogs, live in Stockbridge.