Ducking marvellous!

Such has been the viral nature of the worldwide interest in the story of Sandy The Duck [see above, in his indoor paddling pool] that I feel compelled this morning to provide Rust readers with an update upon his progress from doomed ‘runt of the litter’ fledgling to the tentative beginnings of a worthy existence upon the planet.

Yesterday the ground floor of the Ingolby manor house became a scene of warlike carnage whilst a cage, two different carrying boxes, my second-best duvet and an eating/drinking bowl area strewn with day-old newspapers were established by Her Indoors as our hero, careering about like a toy duck operating with two everlasting Ever-Ready batteries, effectively took over.

He went for three longish ‘walks’ in the garden and even travelled with me at popular request across the road when I nipped over there to collect a pint of milk. There he created a sensation of sorts amongst those standing at the bus stop by poking his head out of his box to say hello as we came past in order to enter the newspaper shop.

[Sharp-eyed Rusters may have noticed that the above accompanying image today was not actually one of Sandy at all, but of the plastic duck we have bought him as a temporary companion lest he become too attached to his current minders. Here is one of him in all his glory, now virtually part of the family …]