Ducks cannot live on bread alone

There’s a park near my house. I don’t know if “park” is quite the right word for it. There are some trees and shrubs around it but it is mostly taken up by a huge pond. Again, I wouldn’t use the term pond to describe it. I would use “lake” but Cassandra says it’s a pond and I’ve never professed myself to be an expert in geography.


In any case, there’s a huge pond with a fountain sprouting water into said pond. Carelessly swimming in the pond, are cute little ducks. There aren’t many of them, but they make a funny noise when they quack now and again and are amusing to watch.

Around the pond there are signs in both official languages—French and Dutch, in case you were wandering—warning not to feed the ducks. Every four or five feet is a new sign. And there is a barricade set up around the perimeter of the pond, to dissuade any wise guys from taking the law into their own hands and feeding these ducks. They’re not killer ducks. They’re not particularly brazen either. We were there for about 20 minutes and none of them bit me or attacked me with their wings or beaks. But there is a reason for this insane precaution. It’s because these ducks already have a food source. It’s this:

The city provides them with their own supply of food. As you can see from the picture, it’s quite appetizing. No wonder there’s only about 4 of them in a huge park.