Rain rain go away bring a duck another day.

I am beginning to notice a pattern here. The ducks pretty much show up when they feel like it and once they do there really is no sense in trying to ignore them. The Ducks Are Quacking still.

Some of these yellow crusaders have become so dependent on their golden egg that they will do just about anything to disguise themselves in the hope that they can just continue waddling through life never fulfilling their purpose— to share their gifts with the world so that all can be inspired to achieve the greatness that is within.

Other ducks even go so far as to disguise themselves in a way that makes them repulsive to anyone who is desperately searching for an invitation to the Gangnam procession of their own minds. I wonder if they are just afraid of being bitten. You know that old idiom: Once bitten, twice shy?

I’m sure my sharp-toothed poodle dutifully at my side protecting me from fowl little creatures does nothing to bring out the boldness in them, but what about you?

Do you have a four-legged Kevin Costner wannabe guarding your beautiful voice? Or are you hiding a mouthful of canines in there— the dirty little secret you don’t want anyone to know about so that you’ve learned to perfect that tight-lipped smile ready to inconspicuously snap off the head of the messenger.

Yes, sometimes the gold our little feathered friends are carrying is really a solid mass of dust pressed into the shape of an egg from years of our lovely “buttockses” sitting on our dreams, but that doesn’t make it any less valuable.

On the contrary, the old nugget is easier to dissolve and readily takes the shape of its new context once the vessel we shape for it is complete. We just need to follow The Fitnoduck Principles to make it happen.

So will an otherwise shy duck chance a visit?

Knock knock knock.

Oh! I wonder who that could be. Let’s open the secret door to my heart and find out. “Lola. Follow me.” (just in case)

Gasp! What is that?! Lola hides between my legs with her tail tucked and tracks a wet Great-Duck-In-The-Sky-awful-smelling green mass of dread-like algae mopping its way across my floor. It makes this strange muffled sound as it slimes its way into my living room which suggests it could be a distant cousin of my loyal water dog. But the expression on Lola’s tail tells me otherwise.

There certainly is no chance of Lola even getting near the lake weed and…Yuck! Plastic, crap, candy wrappers, decomposing Chinese takeout, and is that what I think it is? Latex. Lovely.

Suddenly, the creature starts expanding breadth-wise and I can see two little beady black eyes peering from between its limey locks. Hey, hang a sec. That Halloween costume doesn’t fool me. It might be trying to look like a scary moat monster, but it’s just a duck!

Forcefully deep “Qua quack qua quack quack!”

Oh pardon me, a Moat Duck. “Should I be scared then?” I ask.

Another “Quack!” straining to sound menacing.

Lola pulls the sheet off her adopted couch and drags it over to me. What a smart girl. I pick it up and toss it over the trick-or-treater and we pounce on it.

This duck is soiling my decor…um…what will the neighbours think.

The quacking turns fierce Like No One Is Watching and there is bashing about inside our makeshift trap that sends us flying backwards, oozing with sludge. The duck shimmies everything off like a belly dancer jazzed on Red Bull and now everything I’ve spend years keeping squeaky clean needs a complete overhaul.

Moat Duck is transformed.

She relaxes her wings, waddles over to me, and deposits her harvest at my feet. I reach down, pick up the golden egg, and it disintegrates to flow through my fingers like sand.

Great! More Mess!

Fwap! A wing wacks me on the head and wags its tip at me. Ouch! I was not waiting for that!

The shape-shifting duck spreads out the gold dust on the floor and writes a message with her wingtip:

“You live where your heart lives. You breathe what your heart breathes. You drink what your heart drinks. You sow what your heart sows. Choose your environment wisely.” — Enviroduck

She hands me a mop, adjusts her feathers, and quacks her final words before shrinking into a speck of yellow dust.

“Now clean up your mess!!!”

And so I am.