We've been in our historic homesite for over 3 years now. On the very first Sat. evening spent there ... I heard some strange sounds coming from the firebox in the dining parlor fireplace.
Peeking timmidly through the fire chains, I thought at first it was a large rodent.
Moving the chains apart, a very nervous female wood duck flew threw my hair and right into the bay window. Certain the glass would eventually break, she tried to exit that way 3 or 4 more times before the CEO could grab her. We set here free and had a tale to tell for a few weeks.
Sunday morning last ... having long since forgotten about her, I heard some more rustling coming from the same firebox during breakfast.
I opened the firebox doors and cleared the flue opening with a poker. A solitary egg fell into the ashes. This egg was soft and leathery, like a reptilian egg and I figured a crow or starling had deposited it there.
After dark that same last Sunday, one of my greyhounds, who's afraid of his shadow, suddenly went to the fireplace and made a feable attempt at "pointer" imitation.
You guessed it. A female wood duck, sitting in the ashes. Knowing a thing or two about birds, the odds that this was the same female are quite high.
The wife with a strange ease, reached in and grabbed her, with little struggle.
I was told to dash off and get the digital camera. When I returned, both wife and duck had settled into a snuggle at the table. My wife asked me to feel the back of her nape, just under her crest as she stated she felt a bump protruding.
A minute later, with one last futile attempt at freedom, she died in my wife's hands, having somehow shattered her neck.
She was thusly christened "Wilma the Wood Duck" and buried along with the rest of the avians we bury. Wood ducks, very strange gangly ducks are the only species that nest in trees or other cavities, usually near a pond, stream, or lake. The mail is gaudily painted.
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