Rocket and the Ducklings

.Mama Duck waddled down to the pond’s edge with five ducklings following behind her. She glided into the water, quacking to her babies, urging them to join her. One by one, they followed Mama though their movements needed work to slip through the water with hardly a ripple.

KERSPLASH! Rocket, my golden lab, jumped into the water from the other side of the pond and paddled straight for the duck family.

“Rocket, come!” I coaxed in my firmest voice. Eyes riveted on the ducklings, he ignored my command.

Strong jaws and huge white teeth grabbed the last duckling in line and the dog turned back toward me. I fully intended to scold him for hurting the baby, but when he reached shore, he placed the youngster at my feet and immediately jumped in the water once more.

Meanwhile, Mama swam frantically in circles, quacking her loudest while attempting to draw the brute away from her little ones. As with my scolding, he ignored the mother and aimed for the babies. They, not understanding why duckling number five disappeared or why Mama seemed intent on leaving them, kicked their webbed feet faster and faster trying to catch up to her.

Duckling number four disappeared in the mighty jaws before Rocket turned back to shore. There, as with his last catch, he released the stunned baby without so much as a tiny feather ruffled.

Mama swam to the bank where her missing chicks stood quite still, not knowing what to do or where to go. She led them back into the water just as Duckling Number Three hit dry ground.

Over and over Rocket deposited ducklings on the bank while Mama duck insisted on sending them back into the water. I watched the odd ballet in amazement, wondering why the dog kept bringing the babies back to shore. After several minutes it hit me!

Rocket taught himself to retrieve rocks from the pond. Once my children discovered his talent, they and he spent many happy hours playing retrieve. The game led to other recoveries that proved not so much fun, such as when we fished for the catfish stocking the pond. If Rocket came along, we could not use bobbers on our lines; he would dive in and bring them back to us. His second venture of this type ended with a hook caught in the pad of his paw. We stopped bringing him with us when we fished.

He saw the ducklings as bobbers. Not only were they lighter to retrieve, they were a whole lot easier than grabbing rocks from the pond bottom.

After a dozen or so tries to keep her babies in the water, Mama gave up. Waddling up to Rocket, she nipped him rather painfully on his sensitive nose. With her disciplinary action fulfilled, she quacked gently to her babies and led them back to the yard. Swimming lessons would have to wait until another day.