Probably they now are searching for us by the duckcommunity
Welcome to tiny escapes for overstimulated people which brings your breezy tangled up nervous system immediately to this panic-less place where you would think you could destress and escape the flipped algoritm for exactly 10 seconds to subsequently fall in an entire deeply concerning and panic-fueled duck drama.
Initially this place was so peaceful it felt fake. And it totally was!
Duckface here was trying to ruin it all.
First this place was all about you should become a person who goes outside more. Next thing you know is: run back home!
Duckman was acting like a very sad, scary and mostly where did my wing mechanic go kind of traumatized half feathered puddle manager.
It totally seemed his big most important wing had been insanely crushed to the portion of a shriveled leather glove in the microwave.
He was dramatically flapping his not functioning wing like he was an exhausted airport employee directing invisible airplanes during a full emotional breakdown.
And whatever he did, he didn’t manage to make the thing work again, leave aside do the groceries and cook with it. Now the poor, unemployed and mostly decorative wing sat there all being miserable, duckless and it felt like it had to blame the entire humanity for it.
The hubby immediately came to the rescue, at least you would think and in a way it was the case. After a whole hour (or 4 minutes) of speculations about the Donald Duck descendant not being able to fly and relocate his dramatic duck nonsense to another zip code; hubby concluded he needed a Duck doctor right away because all speeding cyclists and aimlessly wandering straycats could do much more harm than he already was in now.
After a stressful, sad and compassionate observation that the Ducky probably would end up as run over by bikes (because elderly people do bike like crazies too youknow even in the electric mode), flattened by lost elephants or eaten by hysterical hungry cats; we went home to make this life saving phone call to make sure the disturbing situation would get very promising outcome prospects.
But guess what.
He never did and completely forgot about the poor beast and now I’m not sure we are legally classified as good humans anymore because I never called either and now I’m sitting here wondering what happens if people recognize me from this mostly honest blog and start collectively screaming: “that’s the duck woman”, “with her duck husband!”.
And suddenly out of nowhere will develop an entire devastated duck supporters empire, holding tiny protest signs saying: justice for the slightly confused wing creature!!!
It might become a totally possibility at this point that wildlife organizations put my blurry face on a warning poster somewhere near a lake.
So I apologize from the deepest bottom of my heart and I will make it up by checking on him again next time, if there is gonna be a next time.
That also depends entirely on whether the duck community still allows us near water.
