The Story of Eugene

The day before Craig and Emily were set to travel back to Denver, we (the girls and Dad) decided to take Emily on a tour of Stillwater, while C slept.  One of our stops included Theta Pond, the local duck hole.  As soon as we pulled into the Willard Hall parking lot, we noticed our old friend, a champagne colored duck, getting attacked by a pack of mallards.  See, long ago, a pet duck was released into Theta Pond after it outgrew its owner (yes, we knew the owner).  Little did the owner know that ducks are territorial:  they will violently attack outsiders to protect their turf. 

 

Being the stranger at Theta hasn't worked out too well for our friend.  This little duck has been getting his feathers plucked – literally – since 2002 when Erin and I were last at Oklahoma State University.  We served as its quasi bodyguard back then, frantically scaring away the vicious pack animals that had descended upon it.  On several occasions, we’d find our friend bloody and in a daze from all the plucking.  We reported the attacks to the OSU vet, but unfortunately, there was little they could do.  It’s the OSU police and the Oklahoma Fish and Wildlife Department who manage Theta Ponds feathered friends. 

 

Fast forward six years, and little has changed.   Our little duck – who we shall call Eugene (though I think he’s really a she) -- is still being attacked.  Eugene’s still bloody; he’s still dazed.  When we drove into the parking lot, there were no less than three mallards on his back, plucking his feathers and gnawing at his head and neck.   Concerned for his well-being, Diane and I jumped out of the Subaru and ran to his aid while Dad, Emily, and Erin manned the car.  We scared the others away long enough to help our little friend escape.  And escape he did…sort of.  Confused and bloody, Eugene waddled away from the pack and towards the edge of Willard Hall’s front sidewalk.  He took cover in the bushes after seeing one of the other mallards waddle after him. 

 

Still hot on his case, the mallard continued to inch closer to Eugene.  Thankfully, our bodyguard outfit has four broads on the payroll.  Emily quickly jumped out and chased the duck away.  The three of us held post while I alerted the OSU small animal clinic about the carnage at Theta.  OSU’s vet is top-notch when it comes to animal comfort once the animal is in their care, but they’re prohibited from actually rounding up animals themselves.  And short of lassoing the thing ourselves, there was little we could do but wait for the OSU police to step in.  Still, the doctors seemed very concerned for Eugene, and called several times to check on the tenuous situation (though, for the longest time, they thought I was calling about my duck). 

 

Tenuous it was.  Though Eugene had escaped temporarily, he couldn’t fight the urge to rejoin his abusers – a typical cycle of violence.  We tried to steer him towards the bushes long enough for the Wildlife folks to call us back with a plan (never happened) but Eugene had other ideas.  He made an arc around us by walking first north towards Whitehurst and then east towards the Student Union.  He was heading straight for his attackers when a rainstorm hit, forcing him to take cover under yet another bush.  Being the professionals that we are, we had followed Eugene during his dangerous journey home.  In the middle of the parking lot with no where to go, we took shelter under a tree like a herd of unsuspecting cows seconds away from being electrocuted while Erin chatted on her cell phone with our cousin.  Way to keep your head in the game…Erin!

 

We continued to observe his wanderings for a few more minutes, but needed to return home to Craig, who was waiting for his meds.   Once home, another doctor from the OSU clinic called to check in on the situation.  Neither the OSU police nor the Wildlife department called to ask about Eugene.  As far as we know, he’s still eking out an existence at Theta, and vulnerable to more attacks.  We intend to check on him once back in Stillwater.  Sadly, if he were moved to another pond, a similar situation would occur.  Given the situation, the only option is to hire us full-time.  We’ll be sort of like duck lifeguards for Theta Pond, though I think we should have a kazoo instead of a whistle.  I think ducks would respond better to a kazoo.  -- J