A few days of peace allow me and the duckling offspring to appreciate some quality time together. I help them improve their swimming skills and let them float among the leaves where the frogs sun themselves. They enjoy the heck out of drifting past me while peeping to beat the band. I notice the increase of feathers gives them a gold shimmer that makes this Poppa Mastiff proud they’re thriving in undue circumstances. I want the tots to meet their natural mother Mabel soon in hopes she recognizes them. Cyrus never mentions his wife’s condition and Mabel rarely crosses his radar. Occasionally, I check his headspace and discover there’s not much goin’ on inside. Sad really, the guy’s gotta feel bad about having a broken wife. Maybe he should be giving a thought on how to yank the poor woman out of her funk or whatever humans call their depressions these days. One of the YouTube videos says seventy percent of the population is on anti-anxiety pills. There must be something wrong with the system they built for themselves and then called it Normal like it’s some kind of natural place. No thought given to roaming through the woods and foraging for food like the old days, similar to the way happy elephants lived when humans weren’t interfering with their territory.
The peepers sit on their haunches for a while tired from exertion and the hot sun beating on their tiny bodies. I step into the water and shove the little raft to shore where they easily climb onto the bank without their usual mishaps. Yep, this is one proud Poppa. I hardly notice the pair stuck to my side like useless adjuncts. Sometimes I smile when looking at their shimmering glow lights of happiness living the easy life and knowing Yours Truly will make sure the food bowl is full.