At approximately 8:29.5 a.m., the ducks or geese who congregate at Candle Lake beside my office hone in on the fact that a car is indeed coming their way. The beacon inside their small duck heads comes from a car-shaped homing device.
“Potential crumbs, potential crumbs, potential crumbs…”
That beacon activates a conditioned response via their legs that then compels said wildlife to descend upon the next possible benefactor. And at 8:30, that possible benefactor is me.
You would think that after one year and four months of continual, “Hello duckies. No, duckies – I don’t have crumbs. Please let me open my car door all the way, duckies…why thank you, duckies, you’re too kind…” chatter from the driver of the white VW they would give up.
No such luck. They lift up their necks and stare in my window until I leave the car. They scooch over just barely to let me into the back seat from where I retrieve my briefcase. And should I ever have supplies I need to get from the trunk of my car, well, they walk that distance with me as well.
I’ve written about these birds before. I’m very convinced feeding them is non-beneficial. But I am a human, they are ducks, and I suppose there is always hope.
I had no idea water fowl were so resilient.