Even before the alligator attack, Waddles didn’t walk so well.
In fact, she’d gotten the name Waddles on account of what her owners, Fred and Norma Swan, describe as a “crossover walk” she’d had as a duckling.
“She used to walk foot over foot,” says Norma — and it was such an uncomfortable, unusual gait one veterinarian suggested Waddles would quickly get arthritis. That vet didn’t come out and say that Waddles should be euthanized, but Fred and Norma felt the implication. The couple, who live by a river in Inverness, wouldn’t do it then — and they won’t do it now, when walking funny is the least of Waddles’ issues.
A year ago, the Swans had no ducks, but just after Easter 2015, a neighbor’s discarded duckling found his way to their pond. The Swans named him Roger. They felt sad that Roger had no friends, so in July they went to their local feed store and picked up five ducklings: Prink, Oreo, Ebony, Pacer, and Waddles. Before too long, the gang began acting “like teenagers,” Fred says: They’d leave home in the morning on some adventure — over to the river, usually — and then come home at night for dinner. Waddles — a Pekin duck who has pretty blue eyes and a striking little pouf of white feathers on her head — had a hard time keeping up.
Then one day, about a month ago, she didn’t come home at all.
Norma went to the river and discovered a couple of fishermen holding onto Waddles. She ran down the bank, hollering, “She is ours!” The fishermen explained they’d found Waddles trapped under a log, nearly drowned, using her beak as a snorkel.
One leg was completely severed. The Swans theorize an alligator caught Waddles, ripped off her leg, then put her aside to finish eating later.
Miraculously, Waddles did OK after that first attack. She almost didn’t survive an incident not much later, though, when her flock-mates attacked — and nearly killed — her.
“Take out the weak link,” says Fred — who caught the raft of rogue ducks in the act, and managed to save Waddles, again. The gang mangled Waddles’ other foot, along with her eyes and beak. While her eyes and beak healed — mostly — Waddles can no longer walk at all. The vet once again suggested that it might be time, but Norma and Fred were determined to let Waddles live.
They “keep her full of activities,” Fred says. Every morning, Waddles cleans off in the couple’s stand-up shower. Every evening, Norma administers a pre-bedtime duck massage. During the day, they often cart Waddles around the yard or town in a mulch-filled wheelbarrow. She also enjoys swimming in their big pool, paddling with her still-strong wings.
Waddles likes being inside, too, watching television and listening to blues music — especially if she can sit in someone’s lap while doing it.
“Sometimes she puts her beak against your heart and goes to sleep,” says Fred.
Norma had polio when she was a child. Her mother told her she’d crawl before she’d walk — and that’s literally what happened. It is possible, she knows, to go through something awful, and make it out OK. Maybe better than OK.
Even though Waddles seems content and then some, Norma and Fred still want more for her. And so, recently, they asked Ronnie Graves, a local prosthetist and inventor who specializes in helping disabled animals, what he could do for Waddles.
“After I cast the animal, I sit and stare at it until something comes to me. I’ve even dreamed about it at night and gotten the answer that way,” says Graves. “Don’t laugh, but animals talk to me in their own way. I feel like I can tell when they want my help.”
His solution for Waddles: a lightweight, three-wheeled carriage perfectly molded to her body. The aim is for Waddles eventually to learn to use it for self-propulsion, using her strong neck and wings to make herself move. Now, though, she happily gets pulled around on a leash.
“It’s a whole new procedure for her,” says Norma. “I think she’ll adjust to it.”
Graves is not done making Waddles mobile yet. He’s designing a remote-controlled duck wheelchair as well.
“We are experimenting with a 4×4 amphibious remote-controlled car chassis. We’re making the cart for Waddles to be supported in, and then we will attach the controls. Norma and Fred will control this one. Maybe if AFLAC or someone like that gets behind it, we could afford one that Waddles can control,” he says.
Before packing up the picnic, Norma holds Waddles in her lap, wrapped up in a cozy cloth. The duck rests her head on Norma’s shoulder. “Even from the start, the vet said not to keep her,” Fred says. “After all she went through, she still fought for every bit of life.”
This article appears in Mar 24-30, 2016.