100 Pictures of a Duck named Squeaky
Squeaky the Duck loves to peck at feet. There’s something about the color of toenail polish that keeps her attention. Noticing what interests her makes training Squeaky the Duck possible.
Why am I writing about duck training? I know it isn’t a pleasant subject, but the cleaning up, after a duck, consumes most of my day. And oddly enough, my husband uses the downstairs, of our building, to practice law. He has (or had) a thriving law office, but it has been a circus for him, since I got the animals. And quite startling to his clients. When clients enter they hear the dog barking, or a cat sneaks downstairs and rubs up against their leg, or they hear the sounds of a duck quaking. Some clients are deathly afraid of animals, and ‘freak-out.’ In fact a few non-animal lovers have actually took their business elsewhere.
It is because my husband is trying to run a business from home, that I have to work extra hard to teach and try to keep the animals sweet, obedient, and clean, very clean. It was discovered by accident that Squeaky the Duck can be trained. She understands, her name, the words, “come here,” and we know she has preferences to food and where she likes to sit.
We have made a break-through in potty training. Squeaky, most likely, has no concept or control over secreting waste, but there has been a discovery that she can be contained on a yoga mat, without a cage. Which means that Squeaky the Duck will sit by my feet or near me, in the same room, as long as she gets to sit on a rubber mat.
The first mat was my grandson’s play mat that came with a train set for toddlers. The bottom of the mat is a foamy rubber-like substance, and the face has indoor-outdoor fiber with a decorative picture of a railroad track. Squeaky loves to sit on this mat. As soon as she enters the room she waddled right over to it and fluffs her wings and sits down, for however long I remain in the room. Ducks are social animals. Wherever I go, she goes, very much like the dog. The two of them are never far.
Each morning, I free her from her cage. She has learned, from routine, that she will go outside and from there, go to another cage. I no longer have to carry her outside, she simply makes her “duck” grunt noises, “quaa’,qua’, quack,” while heading toward the door. If I delay in unlocking the door, she quacks a little louder. I no longer need to escort her to the outside cage, she waddles directly to it. I simply close the back door, and climb myself back to bed.
From outside, she must have super sonic hearing. She will know when I am awake. I swear she can hear my eyelids open. Because, you know, she gives me her greeting. “Quack, Quack, Quack!”
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