'If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, it must be a duck,' goes the old proverb.
Talk about the problems of the world being based around the great population explosion and the fact that there are too many people inhabiting this earth. I don't think so. As I drove the school bus this morning, the thought struck me that the inhabitants in our neck of the woods are now outnumbered ten to one, by ducks.
Yes, yes, I know, the rabbits with their advanced breeding habits are in the proportion of 100 0r even 1000 to 1, but they are wild animals and nature has a way of dealing with them, aided by the local farmer and his gun.
The Northern hills have recently seen an influx of incomers whose only desire is to become hobby farmers and the majority seem to want to breed ducks. They want them as pets and unfortunately due to their fluffy bunny/feathery ducky duck beliefs, there is no way of controlling the population. It is getting out of control. The local farmer did try and he had a duck shoot, but he was nearly ostracised from the community and viewed as a mass murderer. You take your life in your hands if you even mention Beijing, plum sauce or anything to do with oranges.
I narrowly missed three ducks this morning. Two Mallard and a Muscovy. They seemed to have a suicide pact as they scuttled in front of the buses front wheels. I came to an abrupt halt and let them cross. It was not a charitable act because perched on the adjacent stone wall was a white fluffy pussycat, who had been stalking these birds for quite some time. The cat leapt but missed the first two ducks. He landed on the third duck's tail and managed to grab some tail feathers before landing in a heap on the tarmac road.
Ironically the cat landed beneath a sign which announced the whereabouts of a Buddhist community. The cat lay there before slowly getting up and walking away, maybe to consider how he could attain perfect enlightenment.
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