The Chronicles of Donna the Duck:
Chapter 5: A DUCK ALONE
I know there will be those who will criticise me for keeping one duck on her own, it will be seen by some as cruel, letting her be lonely. I did this for two reasons, the first being that ducks kept in pairs do not make good pets, so I understand as they only have eyes for each other. Secondly, two ducks would be quite impractical for us. We could possibly boat with one but with two it would be impossible, we haven't much space to spare and the cleaning up would be double. However, I did worry at first if I was being hard on her, keeping her on her own, I was making her very dependant on me and I could not always be around. It is a responsibility you take on when you buy any pet. All I could do was to make sure her life was as pleasant as possible and see if she thrived. Donna definitely thrived, she grew quickly, from the fluffy yellow duckling at 3 weeks old she became a fully feathered duck at about 8 weeks. She was fat, sleek and absolutely beautiful. She was alert, lively and seemingly very cheerful. She always seemed happy to see me and she preferred to be in my company, but she looked quite content when on her own on her grassy bank. All I ever fed her on was the layers pellets, bread and water, chopped lettuce and cabbage. Now outside she had the pellets always to hand, the bread and water, with the lettuce and cabbage and what ever she could glean from the garden. She would grub about the borders and the lawn but I was never really sure what she found but she enjoyed the 
activity. When ever I started digging though, she was in seventh heaven as she pounced on the fat juicy worms and grubs and gobbled them down. I had to be really careful as her head would be so close to the spade sometimes as she was afraid of missing out on any delicacy. So, all in all, I decided she was a pretty happy solitary duck and so ceased worrying on that score.
DONNA'S INTRODUCTION TO BOATING
As I have said before we had not been boating for some time due to Mel's commitments, but at the end of July there was to be a local "STEAM RALLY". We had really enjoyed these events for several years so we were keen to attend. It is not only a Steam Rally but has other attractions and lots of lovely bric-a-brac stalls and the site is surrounded by the River Soar on two sides of the field. So the event is attended by lots and lots of boats, all moored side by side and nose into the bank. We had arranged for Mel and I to go up on Friday evening and our friend Mick to come down by car and stay on board with us Saturday and Sunday morning, Mel could then use the car to go to his college commitment. Then Mick and I would bring the boat back to its mooring on Sunday afternoon. The only snag was Donna, were my dreams of having a boating duck just a load of rubbish? We would soon know. The first snag was the fact she still did not like me to touch her and would run around the garden in panic if I tried to grab her. About three weeks before the rally I decided to concentrate on getting her accustomed to being handled. So every evening it was time for her to go back into her kennel, I would catch her and hold her tight until she calmed down, I would stroke and talk soothingly to her. At first she quacked and fluttered a bit but she soon got over this. After about a week I could touch her without objections but things did not improve when she was loose in the garden. Then on the Friday morning that we due to introduce her to the boat in the evening, things changed. I let her out as usual into the garden and when we wanted to go to work and I needed to catch her to put her back into her enclosure, instead of the usual run around which ended in me catching her, she stood still, lowered her head and stuck her neck out in a very submissive way, and allowed me to pick her up. I picked her up, stroked her and put her down onto her grassy bank, we had made it, she was hand tame and never after that did I ever have any trouble catching or handling her. In fact she seemed to expect to be picked up and made a fuss of, she chittered away with pleasure when I fondled. her. I use the word 'chitters' as it seems to describe accurately the sound she made, it was not a quack, she didn't need to open her beak, it is a funny little sound in her throat, almost like a cat purring. So the first obstacle to our boating with her had been overcome, just in the nick of time.
