Sundays are supposed to be relaxing are they not? Cooking a roast, laying on the sofa, not answering the phone..... Yeah right, in my house it consists of every muppet on the island finding animals, fixing things, and catching up on many messages.
I got a call that a guy was about to kill his ducks, and if I wanted some to get there quick. So, off we went following some bad directions from a guy we didn't even know. When we go to a lot of fincas, I always get the feeling we are going to end up on the front page of the newspaper "Local woman found cut up into small pieces by axe murderer"
We rounded the corner, and there was the smallest room ever with an Aladdin cave of animals, chickens, turkeys, a donkey, cats, goats and a duck all fighting for space, and bread that was being thrown on the floor for them. I always have to remember that I am there to save animals, not give a twenty minute lecture on living conditions for animals.
The guy grunted, pointed to a duck and asked if I wanted it, of course I said yes, and asked if he had a box. The look I got convinced me I had finally grown the extra head I needed! He shuffled off, and returned with a feed sack and a a knife. I smiled at him and hoped he knew I wanted the duck alive, and not dead for sunday roast.
The journey home was the typical smelly, duck shit aroma drive that I am used to, well come on who doesn't have a duck in sack on the floor of their car on a Sunday morning?