She needs headshots for grad school portfolios. I need an excuse to follow her around with a camera and count my lucky stars. -5 isnt all that bad.

I rode back one day from the feed store with her in my lap. A tiny brown face looking surprisingly curious into my own. She squeeked the whole way home in disapproval of her new surroundings and company. A few years later she was eaten by a pack of snarling dogs while attempting to introduce herself…no doubt a result of her identity crisis (growing up with house dogs). Ducks are social creatures. Dogs are as well…but sometimes they eat ducks. Beepers had a schedule. Like any refined creature of habit she preferred some things routine over chaos…and she made this known. No where in the house was the drywall thick enough to drown out the insistent quacking and scratching of wings on the old wood door.  5am came and went with the shuffling of sleepy feet as mom released the queen from her bed chamber…a cardboard box in the garage. Ms. Judy, our neighbor, would disturb throngs of worms while gardening next door. Beepers could feast and increase her neighborhood standing at once. She was smart like that.