And then there's that in-ground pool. Once the snow melts, I nag until Mr. Ivy pumps the top of the pool cover off. This year he was on top of it before I could say a word. ("Good dog, Ubu!") Then nature conspired against us and it has rained enough for us to consider building an Ark.
Our neighbor to the south encourages ducks to swim on her pool cover. She thinks it's cute. It is not cute when our fowl friends leave their calling cards in the form of excrement. What are these birds eating? Steers?
Right now the pool has at least six inches of water on it. That's just fine for wading say Mr. and Mrs. Duck. I can see The Money Pit out my office window and ripples in the usually still water alerted me to their presence. It's annoying to find one or more of the cats watching our little ducky visitors and not say a word to us. ("Meow" would suffice.)
When I see ducks, I dash out yelling and clapping my hands, letting the know they are not welcome. They flap their wings and take off, using language that would curdle milk as they tell us just what inhospitable hosts we are.

I was angry and upset he hadn't been able to save any of the ducklings. And then it happened to me.
Then they start to get tired AND suffer from hypothermia.
Working together, we were able to save three of eight. Those three were more dead than alive by the time we got them out of the pool. They laid on the grass for an hour or more before they revived enough for Mama to lead them away. Meanwhile, five of their siblings lay on the garden compost. There are few more heartbreaking sights.
So while it sounds mean that we discourage the ducks in the spring, there's method to our madness. Still, as long as ducks have bird brains, I'm sure we'll have to deal with the situation again.
