We were visited by Bob and Priscilla. (Ducks.) We fed them wheat bread, they quacked thank-yous. It started raining, and we watched them move over to Kent's yard under the matronly oak tree. They napped. When the sun was out again, they waddled to the puddles in our gutter, where they drank and drank. Then Bob pooped. Priscilla decided to rest again, this time in the road. I waved them along to other grass, under a tall pine. They quacked some more. Last we saw, they were headed down the street toward whoknowswhere, side by side.