Duck Gait and the Great Stink

There are golden non-negotiable rules when it comes to men’s world.  Look straight ahead when hanging out at a public urinal, don’t grope, gape or gyrate near on or around another’s wife, don’t under any circumstances thieve a duck farmers ducks. 

On the Island of Bali, one of thousands of Islands located on the Indonesian archipelago, ducks take a back beak when it comes to favourite feathered things.

All things on Bali must have some form of economic utility. Nothing is free therefore value is a complete focus of life.    

Cocks are top bird and many can be observed preening and pulsating after vigorous public stoking from their dedicated and devoted handlers.  A strong well trained fighting cock can bring in a lot of money and afford their owner heightened prestige and popularity.  In a patriarchal society such elite non paper currency positions are very important and advantageous. Such reputations and accolades are also a valuable ego addition, an emotional aphrodisiac.

But ducks have their place, as all things on Bali do.

So, when Mary the Bali dog, emanated her breed’s tell-tale distinctive low growl, followed by a rapid high pitched bark, it was obvious an intruder of human or otherwise was in the vicinity.  Nothing really that unusual on any given night but on this occasion the intrusion was unusual and deadly.  Mary was right on the danger but no one thought more than it was just another alert.  However the rice paddies were being invaded.

Rice paddies provide a living for Balinese ducks.  They are an important link in the organic chain and they are a valuable asset.  They most certainly have economic utility.  After harvest time a duck farmer brings his flock of ducks to the paddy.  They then spend the day clearing up old pieces of grain and eating insects that would destroy the next rice crop if left alone. The ducks follow the farmer home at night, keeping an eye on his piece of cloth tied to a big stick.  Balinese ducks cannot fly so their only chance of escape is to waddle as fast as possible as a group or have the protection of their owner(s).

That first night 50 working ducks were taken and even though the farmer had penned them off for security and safety, their perimeter had been savagely breached.  As morning broke suspicion and conjecture rose rapidly.  Someone or something must be blamed and Mary the Bali dog was most certainly being looked at as a perpetrator.  Her innocence was strengthened due to her bark tight alibi and the obvious inability for even a very smart lokal dog to eat or hide 50 scared waddling ducks. 

Remnants of the dastardly deed were unfortunately left strewn behind.  Numbers of ducks had perished either from shock or in the violent melee that had obviously transpired.  Their carcasses lay strewn and as the tropical sun grew higher the stench of duck death filled the gentle wafting air. 

Theories began to abound as to the motivation behind such a brazen act.  To be sold at market, ceremonial purpose, revenge for seen or unseen actions, act of Gods, marauding packs of crazed starving dogs…………  But just as night fell and the stink subsided and everyone drew a breath of less rancid air another 20 ducks were stolen from a nearby paddy.  If night one wasn’t serious enough, this latest incursion was enough to start a riot. 

Luckily for Mary this completely cemented her continued survival and the hunt was now on to find the miscreants who had utilised brute force and disrespectful brawn to rob a farmer of his economic surety.

To date no suspects have been identified and no ducks are seen in the paddies.  The scent of death has retreated into the soil and Mary the Bali dog is once again free to run with her canine friends.

Quacking updates will follow if any news breaks……….