First, can you tell I've been to my parents house the last 2 weekends in a row? Out of the last 15 days, I've been gone 9 of them. Ugh. It always takes me a while to recoup from those trips and so I have a LOT to catch you up on.
Speaking of catching....
We went back to my parents the weekend of the 18th to look at houses. Upon unloading the truck, I immediately went to the fridge to get some water. .... and I heard a strange scratching/clawing noise coming from the room we call the "furnace room" (It obviously contains the furnace, but is where we come in and hang our coats, take off our shoes, etc.)
Anyway, I hear this strange noise and cautiously creep to the room, afraid of what I'd find. "scratch scratch... scratch a scratch" Holy mackerel. My ears weren't playing tricks on me. The noise was real and coming from the furnace pipes. Immediately my imagination kicks into over-drive: "Could it be one of those stinkin' barn cats that hangs around here?"
Just then, John peaks his head in the house and yells for the keys. I yell up to him "Um, hun, can you come down here? I need you!" Now, mom was in the other room playing with the kids and I did not want to disturb them or alert them to the situation..... the situation being a wild beast in the house!
John came down and I filled him in. In short order, he heard the sound too. "Is it a mouse?" he said. We both knew that that noise was coming from something much larger than a little mouse. With his trained ear, John was able to pinpoint the beast's location pretty well. "It's right there!"
There is a little pivoting hatch on the pipe near the beast's determined locale. I grab a broom and John rigs it so I can keep the door open using the broom handle. He alerts my mother and looks for the flashlight. "Hey, how did I get the job holding the door for the beast?!!" There John is, 15 feet away, on tip-toe, peering into the hole with the flashlight. There I am, feeling super vulnerable, 4 ft from the pipe, on tip-toe, arms in the air... I don't know, but I was way too close for comfort if you ask me.
Right about this point, the beast starts scratching furiously and puffs of soot exude from the hatch door. He's trying to get himself up the pipe! I'm totally about ready to pee my pants now. Then, I said, "maybe it's a duck."
"A duck?" he said, doubtfully. "Why would a duck be in there?"
About a minute later, John sees the beast cross in front of the hatch.... "It's a duck!" "It's a duck?" I say. "Well, a duck or a big huge rat" he says "I'm not sure."
We prop the hatch open (without my skills being required) and shut the furnace room doors. We talk with my mom who recalls them finding ducks in my gram's chimney before. She also mentions the layout of the duct system and the clean-out located under the deck. John remembers he has left Jazzy outside and goes to get her.
Five minutes later, John enters the house with this:
A soot covered female duck! He brought her right into the house for all of us to see.
He said that he first checked up on the roof and then went under the deck. He found the clean-out, opened the door and there she was, facing out.... almost like she was just waiting for him. Of course, when she focused on him, she turned to run back into the duct. Luckily he caught her.
After having the chance to pet her, we all went outside to release the duck .... in the yard I thought.... Nope. Not John. He and his trusty companion walked clear down to the bridge, climbed the guard rail, carefully descended the bank, and placed the little duck gently into the water. Duckie gave herself a quick bath, dunking her head in the stream, and glided off - none the worse for wear.Once again, Daddy, the Animal Rescuer, saves the day!
PS For you animal aficionados, we are guessing that she was a female wood duck. With all the soot, it really was hard to tell. Since wood ducks build nests in tree holes and not on the ground, we assume she was looking to make a nest in mom and dad's chimney when she took a wrong turn... straight down.
