Clyde belonged to daughter #2 and he was quite the character who wandered around the ranch for many years until a vicious racoon tore his head off. Yeah that's a harsh visual, but it's the sad truth.
When more Peking ducks arrived at our house there was a name that duck contest for Clyde's girlfriends. My daughter picked the name Hazel, and Tina (follow her on Instagram at TLC4wwk) suggested the winning name that my daughter chose, and Clyde's main sidekick was named Clementine.
I affectionately referred to Clyde & his harem as the crapping quackers.
But Clyde was her main bird.
Clyde the duck celebrated his birthday, and was a pretty good sport when my daughter made him numbered hats each year to commemorate the day. Daughter #2 will always have a soft spot in her heart for him. A duck, go figure.
But I don't miss Clyde, Clementine and Hazel crapping on my porch and eating my flowers even though they looked cute as they waddled around the yard. Nothing says welcome to my home like duck doo.
Recently at the local auction house I put a low bid in on a pile of junk - that low bid being $2.50. Turns out no one wanted that pile of stuff so it came home with me.