|Photoshopped because I didn't bring my camera with me.|
Chandler has found a new friend. It's a Muscovy Duck that moved down the street from the end of the cul-de-sac because there's some heavy construction down there. Now we get to walk past it at least three times a day. The first day Chandler saw it, he wanted to kill it. With a running start and a snarling bark he hit the end of the leash, just short of the startled duck. My arm still hurts. Since then things have calmed down. Now the duck and Chandler just kind of hang out. There is no drama, unless the duck actually moves away from Chandler. Then he thinks that it's a game and the duck goes running away, its feet slapping on the pavement. I'm not sure if these kind of ducks fly. This one hasn't yet.
There is one problem with the duck and it does not involve Chandler at all. It's Bette. Bette likes to chase the duck, but that isn't the problem either. What Bette really likes about the duck is the duck poop. There is duck poop everywhere. It's on neighbor's driveways, on the street, and in the yards. It's the poop in the yards that Bette likes the most and she loves to get all into it. I have learned to recognize the tell tale signs. I can tell when Bette is going to squat and pee, I can tell when Bette is going to crouch and poop, and I can now tell just about when Bette is going to flip over and roll around in duck shit. It took a few times before I figured old stinky out, but now that I've caught on I can usually pull her away before she dives in. Usually.