Make Way for the Duckling

For a very short time (read hours), we were the happy foster family of this cute, fuzzy, darling baby wood duck. He loved having his little head rubbed. Eyes shut and leaning into the rubbing. I think if ducks could purr, this one would have.
I was out Tuesday evening when the dog ran past desperately trying to sniff a fast moving grayish lump. As it darted past I glimpsed a beak and 2 feet. It ran into the bushes and disappeared for a few minutes, 'til a little head popped up through the top of the bush. He hopped out, and I was finally able to nab him with Honey's butterfly net.
We dubbed him Puddle (and then B. was calling him Chuck the Duck, and next morning Honey said we should have called it Chipadee.), and tried to decide what to do, since nest, Mama, and siblings were no-where to be seen, though we had a good idea where he came from.

After the littles were in bed, and absolutely NO helpful info was found on the 'net, I decided to take him back to where we think he came from, and turn him loose.

Cardboard boxes are no home for jumping ducks.

(fuzzy duck, fuzzy picture)


He got those little webbed feet wet and that was it! A very happy duckling indeed, and I'm "fairly" certain, he was re-united later, as I heard lots of peeping (from what I gathered, wood ducks don't actually quack), and he was no-where to be found the next morning. And neither was any -um- fluff.

I kinda wish we could have kept him, I miss that fuzzy little thing!