story and photos by Derek Doeffinger
The advantages of having a friendly neighbor with a heated pool are many, especially in the month of May when the nights still fall into the 30s. And since she has three kids, she’s used to all sorts of people inquiring about swimming – and sometimes just showing up unannounced. But even she was surprised when I texted her a picture of her latest guests.
But I wasn’t. I knew this pool-crashing mom quite well and didn’t put much beyond her. For the past five years in the early spring, she’d been showing up unannounced at my house.
Beginning in March, I’d wake up and head downstairs to peer out the front deck door to check if she’d returned. Eventually there she’d be, looking for the snack she’d become accustomed to. When she arrived last spring, I was glad to see her and her mate. If I opened the door to go out, they’d back up a few steps to let me by and then waddle back to continue feeding. We became friends over the years. When not snacking, these two hung out on the retention pond across the street, even though the canal was only another 200 yards to the east.
By late April, they were usually off child-rearing somewhere. I never could find their nest, but some years they’d return with a squadron of ducklings. She had 14 in tow one year, and to my amazement she seemed to rear them all – they were about half grown when they left for better accommodations.
This past year they began nesting by early April. When weeks went by without a sighting, I worried the local fox had snatched one of them. Then I looked out the kitchen window one May morning and there she was, marching across the backyard, leading a parade of tiny ducklings struggling through the grass taller than them.
Momma knew the neighborhood, so I concluded she was headed to the neighbor’s heated pool. I grabbed my phone and camera. By the time I got there, they were already frolicking in the sparkling blue tropical waters of the pool.
But a problem arose. Momma stood at the edge of the pool exhorting the ducklings to get out. They tried again and again. Unfortunately, they were too small to bridge the gap from the water to the pool edge. I watched them struggle for about 10 minutes before heading to my garage. I returned with an assortment of boards to create a bridge that started at water level and led to the pool edge. No arrangements nor my herding attempts motivated them to leap out. So, I put some boards down at the knee-deep kiddy end where steps led to the edge and retreated for 15 minutes.
When I returned, they had succeeded and were nosing around the gardens at the edge of the pool patio. I decided it was time they leave before they got into more trouble and herded them toward the open gate that led to the front yard. They resisted, but after a scolding they eventually gave in and, shepherded by their mother, went back to the suburban wilds, heading for an adjoining copse of trees instead of the pond across the street.
