A Visit with Elvis

I read somewhere that Muscovy ducks have a life span of about three to maybe five years. This then leads me to be extra delighted when I visit The Park and find Elvis safe and sound, since I've been visiting him at The Park for about 5 years already. I've written much about Elvis on this blog, but if you haven't read it, CLICK HERE to get your introduction.

I've said his world is small, and, I imagine, relatively simple. I find inspiration in that. He is free to go where he wants, and while there is a big lake, an island or two and several forested areas he could visit, he chooses to stay on or at the edge of the reflection pond at the entrance of The Park.

I get warm fuzzies when I see him, alone or with a rotating group of 1-3 feathered mates that roll with him. He's alive and well after all this time and his black pompadour still looks fabulous (hence the name...). 

This day he was on his own, which delighted me. I always could call him over and he'd eat from my hand, but it's much nicer when it's just us two, and he doesn't have to compete with the others in his gang.


I sit, and he rests on the water, occasionally using a back webbed foot to stabilize his position, and we commune. Sometimes he gets out and stands on the side, eyeing me at first for a couple of bites, then fully trusting. There is nothing better than just being quiet with an animal, being respectful that they have allowed you to be close to them, within their territory.

After awhile, he, or I, decide to go on our way. Until the next time.  And so far, there always has been a next time.

Bye-bye Elvis... for now.

What Spring Will Bring: Ducklings and Baby Geese

Heeeere Elvissss

Yep Elvis.

He's still around.

My Elvis at least. Living in the reflection pond at The Park.

I read somewhere that muscovy ducks live about 3-4 years, but it's been over 4 years since I first admired Elvis' fabulous jet black pompadour and the perfect, red, stitch- like adornment around it... and we became friends.

Over that time I've seen him hang with a changing group of guy ducks, sometimes one, sometimes three others. Once in awhile, he comes over to me and we have some time alone. I like that time.

I'll talk to him as he paddles steadily toward me, and hold out a piece of bread.

It's never anything less than amazing to commune with an animal. I always feel in my element.

Remember Elvis?

The Muscovy duck I named Elvis, I mean.

He says hi.

What Ever Happened to that Duck?

Never got the chance to continue the white duck story. So, as I posted below, I fell when I went against my own rules and jogged around trying to catch this bird. I dusted myself off and tried to enlist a few people to assist me in diverting the duck so I could pick him up but NO ONE responded as they passed. I mean, I was in a Zoo polo shirt, had nice hair, earrings. I looked perhaps like an upright person clearly with a job that involves animals... You'd think they'd at least say something back. Nope.

So I decided to walk him back to the Lake.

I left the carrier where it was, and picked up the blanket I'd brought, stretching it across the front of my body from arm to arm, forming a kind of cloth wall. And I started walking behind him. He marched forward, occasionally looking back at me. If he veered to the left, so did I. Ditto if he veered right, and it got him walking straight again.

We marched past the train tracks, and a sidewalk, the outdoor grills and a swing set, past gravel where people were playing ball and continued over the grass. The duck eventually started quacking at me, the frequency and volume escalating in direct relation to his increasing annoyance with me, I'm sure.

Apparently he can't fly, or I'd assume he'd have taken off at some point. Which most likely means he was owned by someone who dropped him off when they got tired of caring for him.

He finally got tired and resigned -- just stopped in his tracks. I slowly approached, and gently picked him up, just like I was taught as a docent at the Zoo. He sat calmly in the blanket as I walked him steadily the rest of the way, though his bill was open a little the rest of the way. Didn't know if he was hot or pissed. Just a few more steps and I could place him into the water. There was another duck already paddling around close to shore and I hoped that was a good thing. Maybe this duck had been bullied and was seeking refuge so far away. Or maybe it just needed to see another duck in the lake to realize he was one himself, and should take like the proverbial duck to water.

Once floating, I watched him for a few minutes. He seemed unsure he wanted to be there but that faded with in 60 seconds. His bill closed, he took a few dunks in the water, and then began to nibble at the greens growing below the water's surface, as naturally as if he'd been there all his life (and hadn't been annoyed by a 5'7" wingless, webless biped)

I headed all the way back in the scorching sun, numb from my chin to my hairline, collected my carrier and bread, then trudged even further to where I'd parked the car. My jeans were ripped, and prime spots were covered in dirt from my fall. So far, the novicane was holding (this paragraph only makes sense if you read the previous post). I got home and fell into bed.

Two days later, my tooth is 100% better. I'm driving to work and see a bright white football shaped thing in a similar place in the grass.

(yes Ellen, you're psychic)

THE DUCK WAS BACK!!!

The Duck is White and I'm Black and Blue

This is a continuation of the story I started about the Pekin duck I found dangerously close to a busy main road at the Park. If you haven't seen it, it would help to click the link to read it first.

The next day, I find myself dying at work. Had a massive toothache out of the blue, radiating into my eye and jaw. Left work for an X-ray and they said I had to see a specialist right then who'd fit me in. I drove back to work first to get some papers to bring with me, and I see a white fluffy butt on that lawn, STILL.

I could not stop now, but I thought about it all the way through the two + hour root canal I had done that afternoon. She shot me up with something just as I was leaving and told me that would help me when the novicaine wore off, but after that I ought to be where I needed to be for the rest of the night because I'd be in pain. Knowing I had an hour or so before I might be unable to function, I had to go save that duck. He was so far from any parking lot, it was going to be a hike, in boiling temps to boot. With a fresh root canal.

I parked in the lot near the fountains, and studied what I had in the trunk. I decided on a carrier, cracked corn, bread, and a blanket. My large net might have been good, but I'd left it at home. I bucked up and began the walk, thinking of my strategy the entire time. I decided to put the carrier down, and gently approach the duck, drop bread pieces and earn it's trust, then pick it up, put it in the carrier and take it to the lake.

Long story short, it didn't work. He was rather skittish and while interested in the bread, there was no way to get close. It's pretty clear that I was in a hurry under the circumstances, and he sensed that. Not my usual whisperer style... so I did what I never do -- I chased him. This is never a good thing. The animal always wins. I was wearing keen sandals, and if you know them you also know they have knobby rubber toe guards. Well I caught that on the edge of the kiddie railroad track and landed hard on my knees, then fell to the side on my right hip.

Here were the knees two days later. The one on my hip looked like I got it skiing (and falling) 0n the icy slopes of New England.And three days later, the bruises that had astonished me to begin with were MUCH worse -- 5 x larger -- on both knees.
What? Do I have a vitamin deficiency???? And yet, when I think it was all to save a duck, it makes me smile.

Oh yes, I did end up delivering him safely to the lake. To be continued....

Danger! Danger!

Tuesday I was driving home from work, which is a whopping 6 minute commute. I drive past about a mile or so of grass on the back end of The Park, continue on a few lights and boom: my apartment.

So I'd just turned onto Main street and within several feet saw a large Pekin duck (the Alfac kind) about to step into traffic. There is no curb, only two lanes in each direction, with a MetroRail speeding down the middle. I quickly checked my mirror and saw I had a few seconds before the fast-moving cars behind me would be on my fender, so I hit my blinkers, hopped out of my jeep, and shooed the single webbed foot that was poised above the hot cement, ready to step itself into feather heaven, back onto the grass (or in this case, a puddle left by an afternoon downpour).


... to be followed by the next step, and the next, as I continued behind him making encouraging motions and sounds until he was safely over the sidewalk, and the kiddie railroad tracks beyond.

As I did this, I glanced over my shoulder at the car several times, realizing it was highly likely someone could not be paying attention and ram right into it as I was busy walking the duck back to safety. But I have my priorities! (If I'd gotten a flat, that's what I'd have had to do, so people could think I had car trouble for a few seconds, and go around me. I've since bought florescent orange, mini construction cones for extra assurance that I would act responsibly toward humans as well, should I need an emergency stop again).

I'd never seen waterfowl on this side (not to mention this far from the H20) in the 4 plus years I've been here. To get to this road, he had wandered past picnic benches, rest rooms, BBQ grills, playgrounds (with their attendant kids, parents and pets), the children's trains' tracks and it's pick up station and two sidewalks spread across acres and acres of grass and gravel.

While I was marching the duck inland, I calculated just how far away the lake was, and realized that I could not exactly leave my car where it was for long enough to get him there. By this time he'd begun to quack loudly, clearly annoyed by me. I got him to another deep double puddle made by the earlier rain. Once his feet were in water and he had something to drink, I decided that would have to do. And he seemed happy enough to stay here. I raced back to the car and drove off, hoping that he would remain safe...

There's much more to this story so keep an eye out for the next installment!

Just Ducky

.... and Geese-y, to be completely accurate.

I took a walk in The Park for the first time in a long time. I've been so busy with all the other ways I've gotten involved with animals that the place that started me in this direction -- The Park and all the animal regulars in it -- have fallen on the back burner. * hanging head* Isn't that just like life... I never want to take things for granted that are that special. So I got myself there, with bread and cracked corn in my pockets.

I've written often about the ones who I developed relationships with, Mr. and Mrs Goose probably getting top billing (had to say it). So the first two I looked for were them. They are the biggest and the loudest, so they are not hard to find, if they're not resting deep within the thicket on the island in the middle of The Lake. Thankfully I saw them right away, padding around in a rather soggy patch of forest, pecking at greens, which seem to be a daily part of their diet.

However, when I held out a little bread, it got their attention!


I included this second picture because it shows both of their faces in profile. It's worth clicking on the picture to open and see how beautiful they are. And she, who is the smaller of the two and in the lower right of the picture, has features that just look more feminine, even though their markings are almost identical. She looks like she has a more almond shaped eye, or up-swept eyeliner on....


And then there was Elvis.... the Muscoy duck. Once in a while I don't see him but overall he is a fixture, never straying from the edges of the reflection pool


And I also saw the third of my top three favorite buddies, the Indian Running duck. I don't have any name for him but as I've written here, he quacks me up with his adrenalized personality. He runs faster than any of the others over to me, and can't stand still be cause he is so revved up. He quacks at rapid speed and also stamps his little orange feet. So funny.


As a result, most of my pictures of him are blurred like the one below, because he's in such constant motion. And he's in the middle of talking to me. Fast talking, fast walking, very verbal... this duck could easily be a New Yorker (said fondly, as I consider myself to be one -- a New Yorker that is).

He looks like he's saying: WHERE WERE YOU??? DO YOU LIKE SQUIRRELS BETTER THAN US NOW????

The answer is, no.

I'm quite smitten with them all.

Hatched Duckling update

I wrote a few days ago (CLICK HERE or scroll down one post to see) about a baby muscovy duck who hatched when I was walking by the incubator. Here she is, just two days later!! Notice the two toned tootsies. That's my favorite part!

As you can see, she's doing fine, running around her little temporary tank. Ducklings like to be in a group, as soon as she gets a little bigger she will be put in one of the bigger outdoor pens in fresh air with other ducks. In the mean time, I'm sure young ducklings will get brought in and she will have some company to cuddle up to well before that.

Another First

One of the great things about life is that, depending on how you live it, you can always have firsts. I have never seen a duck hatch.... and I still haven't but I did see it within seconds after as we were just walking by the incubator and the person I was with said, "Look! The duckling just hatched!"So now you've seen it too.

See the two parts of the egg with brown inside at the back left, right by the thermometer? Hard to believe she was in there just seconds before. (Click to see any photo enlarged). Notice that she is still wet and has a piece of the shell still on her. I don't know if the mother normally cleans them (I doubt it) or if they just teeter around (this one tried it's new legs and was wobbly, then had to stop and rest every few seconds) until they're all fluffy.

Look at that sweet little baby. Welcome to the world! This might be one to click on so the picture will enlarge.

Here's another where you can better see that she still has a little piece of shell stuck to her feathers. They drink pretty quickly after being born. I remain in awe of Mother Nature!

We're not sure but it looks like none of the other eggs seem to be viable. There has been no tapping from the beaks inside chipping away to get out. They were candled and you could not see much of anything inside. But they'll stay in the incubator for a few more days to see if we are wrong.

Check back in a few days and I will try to get some footage of her once she's fuzzy and full of energy and peeps!

Until then I have some questions -- Is this a first for you too? Of all the animals in the world, which would you like to see being born or immediately after like I did? I know, I know, so many to choose from. Then tell me your top three!

Mr. Foof

There's a pack of about 6 caramel and white colored ducks who must have flown in from somewhere (or were dropped off by someone) about a year ago and decided that The Park was a good place to stay. Smart birds.Plenty of places to swim, nest and sleep and the weather isn't too shabby either. Not to mention that there are lots of humans around who provide extra treats when pulling on grasses and reeds and nibbling insects get ho hum.

Each one of these ducks have a distinctive white poof of feathers on their heads. Not quite an Easter hat, definitely not a pompadour, but more like a cotton ball pillbox.



But last time I was there I saw what appears to be a mallard drake with the same poof on top -- only his was quite grand, traveling from his crown halfway down his shimmery neck. Take a gander: The front shot just makes me laugh.
So noble and yet, so Don King...


Really. It's more than a poof, hence the post's title. Anyway, here for your enjoyment is a little of this guy, dabbling among lily pads.



Having spent the better part of an hour scouring duck books and Google to find out what this is all about, I've come up with ZERO. I went to duck ID sites for hunters. I put head plumage in quotes to get as specific as possible. I Googled images using every wording imaginable. The best I found was one picture of one of the caramel colored poofers but it was on a stock photographers site. The caption was as clueless, only offering it is thought they are a hybrid.

Do any of you animal lovers out there have a clue?

Tres Amigos

I got to The Park, finally. For the first time in a long time I went for a walk by myself and reveled in all the things that have always nourished me there. I used to go several times a week and enjoy the water, the trees, and all the critters. I've been so busy -- and adding rehabbing baby squirrels at home has barely left me energy to brush my teeth let alone get "me time" like a meandering hour in nature. But it is just the thing to revive a tired gal, and I will try to go again very soon.

To spare you seeing only squirrel pictures for the next few thousand posts, I took a picture of three new ducks I'd never seen before. They made a handsome trio and if I were a duck I think I might want to join their little gang.

Too bad you know who wasn't standing in the middle and we could come up with all kinds of nicknames for them like The Reverse Oreos or Piano Keys or something like that. I guess the latter could still apply....

I love the little poof of feathers on the top of the black one's head. Such a Dandy that one.

Just Ducky!

Look at this face!

Who couldn't love a face like this? I see this picture, or this one...

(even if it's a little blurry, the comedy still comes through)

...and I just have to SMILE

This fawn and white Indian Runner duck belongs to the zoo, and is the first animal I took out on grounds for the visitors to enjoy after I completed my animal handling training -- the last part of the close to 9 month training process it takes to become a proper docent.

This breed is aptly named, because they don't waddle, they run, and when they get where they're going, they often stamp their feet as if they are very excited, or had a lot of Starbucks. There is only one Runner in The Park, and I took a shine to him right away because of these charming antics. CLICK HERE to see him.

While this one is trained to be held, I found he was more comfortable when I set him on the top of his carrier. Think about it. Ducks are low on the food chain, and anything bigger than it, trying to hold it is akin to being caught to be eaten. While this duck was doing fine in my arms, I wanted him to be as comfortable as possible, and he was very well behaved while standing. I was impressed!

I've grown to LOVE love LOVE ducks and geese after spending quite a bit of time with them at The Park next to my house, where they reside in abundance. I've gotten to know who hangs with whom and what their personalities are like, what each pecking order is, etc. In fact, between my time there, The Zoo and The Rehab Center, I have come to have a real respect, love and appreciation for all kinds of living being that I never thought I'd feel that way about.. all because I have spent some time learning about them and observing them.

They say you can't hate someone who's story you know, and I believe this is true for animals as well. It's one of the things that attracts me to educating folks about them. The more people know about any animal, the more they may be respectful to them, teach their children and grandchildren to do so, and hopefully that will extend to caring about preserving them and their natural habitat.

It takes a lot to get a duck to trust you. This one was delightful -- well behaved (though he tried to pluck off my buttons and name tag repeatedly til I hid them) and very responsive to what I was asking of him. It's been in the triple digits here for most of the last three weeks (CLICK HERE). Though we stayed close to where he lives and I parked us in the shade, after 20 minutes he looked so hot, I packed him up to take him back for a dip.

And I think it was just the right thing to do. Without delay, he walked up his little plank and posed at the edge of his personal pond.

I took a little movie for you to see how he cools off.... At 100 degrees, I was ready to join him.



That quacking has quickly made the short list of my favorite sounds.

I look forward to taking this one out again and introducing him to many more people. And now that I've introduced him to you, what do you think?

Bits and Pieces

A quick thank you for all replies on my last post. I'm on the road, sending this pre-written post from an iphone.

I do have a net and proper pet carrier and food and water if I were to catch the chicken and would have a person who could take her set up before I did anything... And I would take the hen there immediately after catching her. I can always take her to the professional comfort and care at the wildlife rehab center I volunteer at in a pinch. A vet tech there alredy offered to take her but I'm still looking for the best fit for her new home.


OK---Close to sunset baby and adult bunnies are found everywhere along the edges of the reeds and thicker patches of tall flowers in The Park. They are the only animals there that aren't used to people, scampering away as soon as you get near. I'm glad. As much as I enjoy the fact that the animals there are so tame, it's not the best thing for them.... because plenty of people out there do bad things to animals if they can get their hands on them. I was able to snap a pic before this one hightailed it to safety.
All the ducks I've seen sleep with their heads turned back and their beak resting in the feathers, tucked under their wings. This guy looks like he passed out and his beak is holding him up... exhibiting the same fine sense of balance as when they sleep on one foot. Maybe he had a tough night out with the boys. I got closer to see if he was ok. He looked up and said AFFLACK, so I moved on.

I call the one below Three in a Tree. I had given a nice juicy walnut to three different squirrels and they all managed to run up into the nearest tree and perch on a branch stump, as they are wont to do, to eat it. Usually if two squirrels go up the same tree there is a squabble and a comical chase by one after the other. This was an amazing sight, so I tried to get a quick shot. Unfortunately it doesnt show up so well here... but it's enough.



Hope you can see them all. There's one way up on the top left whose tail is facing us.

The Snow White Effect

... captured badly on film:

I took a sunset walk with lots of food in my bag. I stopped by a little bridge that crosses a hidden finger of the lake, where very few people walk by. This is where some smart mothers have their babies, as they will be somewhat protected. But what can protect you from a mother who decided that she'd had enough?

I went hoping to see that an abandoned baby duck I'd noticed the day before had made it through the night. Happily, she had. Seems she's been left by her mother, which happens more than you'd think. Last spring it happened in this same spot with a set of five babies. They were a little bigger than this guy when orphaned and at least they all had each other. I watched them grow into teenagers and at that stage, you know they are OK.

I'd first noticed the errant mother and her sole remaining baby last week together, in the same shallow reeds by this bridge, but I haven't seen them together since. Once I saw the little one alone I knew it was for good. Of course I woke up several times in the night with worries that she'd be pulled under by a snapping turtle (probably the fate of her many siblings) or something else. So I made a beeline back as soon as I got the chance

And there she was, eating insects of the surface of the water. She eagerly scooped up my breadcrumbs which I'd broken into the tiniest of pieces for her tiny beak. It was nice and quiet, a moment for just us two...

All at once there were rabbits coming out of the underbrush, a squirrel or two running up for nuts, bluejays screaming from the branches above me, 6 ducks swimming over for bread, a few long tailed grackles cawing for a morsel and a common sparrow spiriting away with the crumbs. A trio of frogs I couldn't see started singing in the distance and a Nutria surfaced and began to clean himself with his front paws before noshing on the reeds.

I did a bad job of getting movies, but I did it to try to capture why I feel like Snow White when I come to this place. Animals of all kinds come out of nowhere, but as soon as a dog or other people come along, they scamper, hop, fly and swim away.

Continued...



I'd already fed her plenty but I wanted to give her some more as the bigger she gets the less she will seem like easy prey. As you can see, the other 6 ducks dominated. The trick is to feed the big ones to distract them and then get something to the baby at the same time.

I went to the feed store and bought some actual chick feed for her for next time. Let's all say a little prayer she's there. All she needs is another week or two and she'll be well on her way to a nice long life.

One day I'll have a videographer with me so I can feed all these animals coming at me without trying to also get pictures... Or, since I do have a film degree myself, I might take the expensive HD movie camera I bought for this purpose but never bring with me... Shoot the amazing things that go on around me with a camera that doesn't rack in and out of focus because I zoom in too fast... and I will be able to edit out the bad parts and splice things together. Until then, thanks for bearing with me!

Elvis and His Quackless Buds

I'm always delighted to see my boy Elvis when I go to The Park. His world is pretty small. He swims in the long reflection pool, which is the first thing I walk past when I enter the park. Occasionally he's on the grass just across from it, as he has to eat greens, or on the shallow fountain steps that the water rushes over to pour into the pool. He is there often on hot summer nights, so his legs can be in the cooler water, while he sleeps standing up. The rest of the time he perches on the cement ledges on the sides of the pool, to groom and preen and settle his fat fluffy self down for a rest.

I think I've known Elvis for about 2 1/2 - 3 years now. It's very comforting to see him there each visit, like when you go home for the holidays and see that things haven't changed. Over that time I've seen him hanging with different pals - or should I say they hang with him, because he remains the constant, and the other players shift. For a few months last fall I saw him alone. But recently he's been hanging with two red faced Muscovy's and a teenager whose feathers were mostly irridescent green and black. That teen is now almost fully grown and red faced himself (Elvis is rare in that his facial skin is coal black, just like his pompadour)... and I noticed, as you might below, that it seems like the teen (in the middle, the bird I start the clip with) is the most anxious for food of the four.



Aaah youth. The young green former teen was amusing me to no end as he opened his mouth and did his hoarse whisper in his excitement over food. Muscovy's are actually called quacklesss ducks, as indeed, the only sound they make is the hissing noise you could hear if I weren't babbling incessantly over it while filming. Maybe if you play it back once more you can pick it up.

OK, listening back to this I hope I don't sound like the crazy duck lady or something. I'm a former big city celebrity stylist. I do not wear a bubushka and push around an abandoned grocery cart, with only birds for friends. Just sayin'

What saddened me a little was to see that Elvis seems to have been reduced to the bottom of the pecking order. While the young guy in the middle was most aggressive, the other two red faced ducks were on each side of him, getting their share... while Elvis drifted in the background. He knows I will throw some to him, in fact, I try not to obviously favor him (even though I do). I've seen this hovering behavior from ducks before... one who is interested in food but is not part of the gang I'm feeding. But there you often see the order play out as one or two in the gang will chase the hoverer away once I throw a morsel in his direction, even if there is plenty for all. And it seemed that when I threw to Elvis the young buck wasn't happy about it, and Elvis discreetly swam away a little. It made me wonder if Elvis was getting old, and losing his mojo.

I don't know how long ducks actually live. Wikipedia (which we treat as accurate but technically may not be) says 10-20 years but THIS ARTICLE says 7-8. I have also read 3-4. Certainly in this park, there is more protection than out in the wild, so he should make the higher end of estimates. The great circle of life is evident here, just like it is for us... Muscovy's are a hearty bird and have few health issues so I think he'll be around for a long time. Especially if I have anything to do with it.

I'm Sweet on This One

I haven't seen him so far this spring but my favorite duck in The Park, besides Elvis of course, is this one:

He's a stand out from all the others in my mind, a truly special guy. His little chest is narrow, his beak is orange (not the usual yellow or brown or black), and his slim, rubbery feet match. His feathers are a nice caramel and white color, so he's quite well dressed overall.

When he sees that I have food he runs faster than any of the other ducks; his little webbed feet carry him impossibly fast to my side. He even swims faster than the rest, as you can see below.

His head darts in all directions, as if he's had one too many coffees. I think he'd just a very excited little duck!

I was standing above him on a bridge dropping bread with one hand, taking movies with the other. He comes swimming up at lightening speed and you can even see how his funny feet paddle madly to keep him in place. It's so comical! He amuses me to no end!

(that high pitched honking in the background signals the approach of Mr and Mrs Goose - click on this or on Elvis to read about them. The three that swim up are Black Bellied whistling ducks, but I call them Squeaky Beaks, for the high twittering little noise that they make)

It was no surprise then that when I got home to research what he was, I learned that he's called a RUNNING Duck! No lie. He is the only one in all the waterfowl that are at the park, and at the several other little lakes where ducks and geese collect themselves, I have never seen another.

He's truly one of a kind.

Spring Babies

Sometimes it's hard to get comfortable... and you just need to find the right spot.

Only In Memphis

If you've ever been to Memphis, then you must have heard of the Peabody Hotel. It's an old beauty, kept polished and lush and is the place in town to stay.

If you're not staying there, then you can always eat at it's restaurants, browse it's shops and have a drink in it's famous lobby.

Over the many years I was involved with St. Jude Children's Research Hospital, I had the pleasure of staying there. Twice a day there's an amazing crowd, pressing forward, camera's poised, that gathers to see a one-of-a-kind sight: The March of the Peabody Ducks.

In the lobby there is a small but beautiful stone fountain in the center of the room. At 11:00 AM people enmass line a carpet rolled out from the elevator to the fountain and marching music begins to play (loudly!). The elevator opens up and a man -- The Duckmaster -- steps out, dressed in a red uniform jacket with pressed black pants and shiny black shoes. Everyone's eyes have to drop to see who he is escorting... a group of ducks! Calm and confident, they waddle out one by one and follow each other to the fountain. They hop up a little step or two and jump into the water. There they stay all day, enjoying cracked corn, naps and play until 5:00 PM when the whole shebang is done in reverse.



Their website tells the story behind this best:
"Back in 1933 Frank Schutt, General Manager of The Peabody, and a friend, Chip Barwick, returned from a weekend hunting trip to Arkansas. The men had a little too much Jack Daniel's Tennessee sippin' whiskey, and thought it would be funny to place some of their live duck decoys (it was legal then for hunters to use live decoys) in the beautiful Peabody fountain.

Three small English call ducks were selected as "guinea pigs," and the reaction was nothing short of enthusiastic. Soon, five North American Mallard ducks would replace the original ducks.

In 1940, Bellman Edward Pembroke, a former circus animal trainer, offered to help with delivering the ducks to the fountain each day and taught them the now-famous Peabody Duck March. Mr. Pembroke became the Peabody Duckmaster, serving in that capacity for 50 years until his retirement in 1991. Today, The Peabody Ducks are led by Duckmaster Jason Sensat.

The original ducks have long since gone, but after 75 years, the marble fountain in the hotel lobby is still graced with ducks. "

There are even a few delightful books written on the subject. So the next time you're in the mood to visit Graceland, Beale Street, the home of the old Sun Records, BB King and some damn good Barbecue, stop by the Peabody and see for yourself. Or maybe you already have. Please tell us if you did!

Would YOU like to be a Duckmaster? I know I would.

A Wood Duck Pair

Isn't he stunning? Like tropical fish, these are the most painted of common ducks. When I was a little girl my dad had all kinds of wooden decoys on the shelves and his desk in his den. I'd seen one like this in his collection but didn't realize then that it wasn't all from the imagination of the artist.


As it often is in the animal kingdom, the female isn't as colorful. I don't know if this still picture quite captures it, but she does appear soft and feminine and pretty in person.


These two showed up at the park about a year and a half ago. Before then I had never seen one up close. At first I only saw the male but within a few months I saw her with him. I don't know if they came from somewhere to nest and she was busy with that during that time or if they met through E-Harmony and she moved to be with him...

I've read that they're the only ducks that nest in trees, near or over water. The mother hatches anywhere between 6 and 15 or more eggs, then gets on the ground and calls her babies to jump. The little ones can drop up to 290 feet and apparently be OK! Amazing isn't it? They then make their way to water.

Last spring I saw her in a sheltered little side pool where many smart mothers have their babies (it's off the beaten path -- free of people and predators -- and it's a small, quiet, shallow cove). Sticking close to her side were three gray fuzzy ducklings. I was delighted to see that they had indeed mated with success, but after a week or two I never saw the little ones again. Wood Ducks usually produce two broods a year so maybe they'll have better luck this coming spring.