Well, the day had come to make a decision about leaving the pups on my friend's farm while I take the family on a much-needed vacation. The question loomed high above my head until I saw them being chased by the duck in the yard. Quakers had a hold of Luke's tail and Widow was running out of fear that he'd be next. Since it was about noon, I figured they must have disturbed his ducky nap (he always grabs a little snooze around 11:30) he gets pretty cranky if he doesn't get his sleep.
Anyway, as I gaze out at this turmoil, it came to me. We are really "vacationing" from these three nut jobs more than anything else. "Of course! We could drop them at the farm, including the new ring leader, Quakers".
But first, I had to figure out how to do it without my friend getting wise to what a potential disaster this bunch could bring. I mean, if he gets the slightest hint about these guys he will became an ex-friend, fast.
My friend Charles is a writer also and long ago left the city for the slow comfortable life of the country. He was one of those laid back guys that you know. He raised his kids by the Gestalt method and owned at least six pair of reading glasses and had patches on the elbow of his jackets. He even owns a pipe but doesn't smoke. On the farm, he's a "you can't take the city with you" kind of guy. He's a marshmallow but tightly wound in the middle and he's ready to burst if he is taken from his comfort zone. But he has a great love for animals and I knew that they would be safe with him no matter what. It was Charles I was worried about.
He also has other animals and two kids which I thought would be good for all.
But would we be able to bring him out of the shock of the dynamic trio? Would he ever be the same? Would his family forgive him? Would he be able to repair his home? Too many questions remained as we turned down the dirt road leading to his house.
I had already picked up the duck and dog food and faxed him the instructions for feeding; (basically) open bag and hide your fingers.
It has been decided that this would be a "staycation", just a trial for a few days to see if all goes well.
As we approached the farmhouse, I was taken back by how lovely the setting was. Rows of corn growing in the sun, a garden with all kinds of vegetables, an old iron-handled water pump; it was like Norman Rockwell could have appeared from behind the antique Cola sign he had attached to his barn door. What was about to happen was going to be awful.
The pups are in separate cages and duck is in a box. All are deposited on the doorstep with about three tons of food and we leave after my friend takes custody but before he opens the cages.
Three days later:
Another broken man; "so long mister marshmallow".
After our hasty departure on our experimental vacation, I did not hear from my friend Charles for days. Then from out of the blue came a phone call. My wife answered and gave me the simple message "come and get'em"." "Was that Charles", I asked? "I think so but that's all he said. He didn't sound the same." "I guess I'll get out there and retrieve them" I said and started off out the door.
I got there about an hour before sunset and was told by his wife that he was out back. I found him sitting on a five gallon paint bucket with two six packs beside him. "Charles I thought you quit drinking years ago". Looking at the ground, he raised his head slowly, handed me a beer and said, "I did". What followed was a tale of woe that I was all too familiar with and that would kill my vacation hopes for now.
All seemed to be O.K. the first day. The pups seemed to be happy and very playful while getting accustomed to their new surroundings. Even Quackers was quiet and took to hanging out in the water bucket under the hand pump in the yard. But on day two, the kids ran in and reported that they could not find the new pets anywhere. "We looked everywhere for them but they were nowhere to be found."
Late that night, he got a call from a neighbor down the road who said he had two small dogs on his property and that he was trying to find out where they lived. When he arrived at the house (about 3 miles away), he was met with the man holding the mutts in a box; he was also holding a piece of paper listing the damages they had caused. Destroyed flower beds, torn sheets and clothing from ripped clothes line, sack of corn seed ruined, one chewed tractor seat, bucket of barn paint, etc.
It all came up to about $315 and that did not include the food he fed them or the one apple pie (left cooling on the porch). They ate and enjoyed it, he did not. Charlie promised to let him use his new tractor until he could get him a new seat and let him know that when he got in touch with me, we would figure out the rest. The farmer then told him that his other neighbor would like to talk to him as well; the pups had hit the other property first and had done considerably more damage. All told just over $700 damage.
He returned the pair back home to his house and placed them in the house for his wife to look after while he searched for Quackers. He assumed that the little duck was near by because he was not a flyer yet. After a bit, one of his kids found the duck in the hay loft and brought him down to the house. When he got back to the house he found the dogs had broken the screen in the back door and took off once more. This time the kids gave chase but lost them in the woods that surrounded his property. In the confusion the duck had ran off again and joined the pups on the "great escape" and was last seen running with the pack. He searched for them again till late but turned up nothing.
Early the next morning, he heard something outside and when he got to the see what it was, he tripped over the giant bag of dog food I had delivered with the dogs. The pups had chewed through it and inadvertently dragged it to a point near the door where he tripped over it. "It was like they knew what they were doing and were organized," he said as he finished what looked to be his first six-pack and continued to ramble about the calamities. "And...the chickens, horses and cows, how could they have ALL gotten loose? And all at the same time?" "I've never seen anything like it! They didn't sleep all night! They just ran in and destroyed things, then ran back out. Over and over again! After we brought them back from the neighbors a day and a half ago, my family did not get a wink of sleep the whole time". " I couldn't even catch the duck but he kept up with them" "We finally got them into the barn when my wife got the idea to put an apple pie inside and we waited in the house. When they came back the duck was riding on the spotted dogs back. Have you ever seen that"? He'd shut the door from the outside and he and the kids were able to catch all three and place them back into their cages and they have been waiting there ever since.
I picked up the little monsters and drove off back home, slowly I passed the totally ruined garden, a ripped up small corn field, the antique coke sign (now lying on its side by the road) and the other farm animals now wondering aimlessly on the property. I watched my friend, now drunk and crushed, stumble back inside his farmhouse and knew that we would never see this place again.
Cost of experiment, just over $1,000 = no vacation.
Well, I wish I could say I learned something and I guess I did,
1. Staycations are not as inexpensive as you would think.
2. Never underestimate a ducks ability to ride a dog.
