9:15 AM I’m awake, but I’ve not awakened. Not until, Amanda – who just took Tether out to go “potty” - calls out, “BABY…!!! One of the little ducks fell through the storm drain!!!”

9:25 AM With sleep clothes still on/contacts in, and…, of course, no coffee... I’ve just hauled the 300+ lb storm drain grate from its hole, setting the recovery of last Sunday’s back injury back, at least another three days.

12:47 PM (3 plus hours, later!!!) All attempts to coax this “little guy” out from the drain, itself, and into the open, have failed.

You must first understand that, this “little guy” is crying out every half hour, on the half hour…at least. Amanda & I can’t step out the front door without the hearing the heart-wrenching pleas coming from the bottom of the drain. Of course, all Amanda can think of, is this poor “little guy” spending the night, cold and scared, and all by himself down in that drain. Turns out, she wasn’t the only one.
Later that afternoon, when we took time to allow him to, hopefully, overcome being “spooked” by our efforts, one of our neighbors, Frank, championed an effort, as well. Frank’s daughter, actually, jumped down in the hole and held her patience long enough to encourage the “little guy” to make his way to safety. Unfortunately…they were disappointed, as well. That night, everyone went to bed, sadly, thinking of the fate of “our little friend.”
Monday, October 27th
Monday morning, Frank’s daughter – and, Amanda, as well – left for work, leaving behind the “little guy’s” truly heart-breaking pleas, surely, haunting them throughout the day… It was a beautiful October day in South Florida, and it was going to get better.
(This is where it gets fun.) Amanda made all her sales calls early, to make it home by 3:30 PM. I pulled the grate away from the drain, and she; set up her beach chair, took pool skimmer in-hand (which, she borrowed from her Dad), set a cardboard box lined with a towel next to her, and waited… Waited for the “little guy” to feel safe enough to make his way to the edge of the drain. Then, she could scoop him forward, block entry back to the drain and lift him to safety.

4:50 PM I put aside my work day, and commit myself to the duration of this endeavor…whatever that may be. (But, with an unseasonably 40 degree overnight temperature expected, we quietly believed that this is going to be our last shot.) Amanda, suggests that we try to “communicate” with this “little guy” to get him to come into the clear. So…I…start mimicking the sound he, occasionally makes, with a whistle. Crazy enough, it begins to work. It takes awhile, but it works….he gets close…closer…close enough that, I’m wondering if Amanda can pull the trigger. I begin to wonder, if she can do it. I mean, she’s got one shot to sweep him forward, so that, we can get him out. Otherwise, it could be hours before we can gain his trust again to come out from the drain.
At this point, most of our neighbors have been out to express their support. Frank’s and his family, as well as, our neighbor David. David handed over a real estate sign that was sized, perfectly, to block the entry to the drain, in the event, we could get the “little guy” out. Amanda continued to hold her position, and I…offered “duckling calls” upon command…
It all began to work! The “little guy” was responding, and inching closer to the edge. Amanda was second guessing her moment to make her move, and every second began to grow more intense…. Then, suddenly…as I could not see things for myself, Amanda made her move, and screamed, “I got him, he’s out, he’s out!!!”
With that, I dropped David’s sign in place, Amanda and I switched hands, and I scooped the “little guy” out of the drain and into the towel-line box that Amanda had prepared for him. Next thing you we knew, Amanda had him, comfortably seated, in a clear plastic box, with no sure plan what to do next. That’s when Frank, again, lent a helping hand.

We couldn’t help to run over to Frank’s house, to show him that we had, finally, saved the “little guy.”


From about 20 feet away, the Mother Duck lifted her head toward the direction of her baby’s cries. Amanda, knelt down and let the “little guy” find his way out from the box to rush free across the lawn. In an instant, the two were reunited, and – along with the other three little ones – were off toward the edge of the bank.
The next day, Amanda was – a little – apprehensive, as to, what may have happened overnight. Yet, much to our delight, and God’s blessing, Mother Duck, “the little guy” and his three siblings were swimming along, just fine.

It’s good to be a “Hero.”























