I'm man enough to admit defeat. I've stopped my cannonades against the ducks. They are on the pond, in the pond, dabbling head down under the pond, trashing it to smithereens.
They can have it.
But there is nothing noble in my decision to let them stay. Last weekend, I started my second cold of the winter, and it's a beast of a cold. I feel rotten, I haven't got the strength to open the back door, let alone sling a buckyball at them.
And if you are into conspiracy theory, you might believe that what I have got is not just a cold, but an attack of avian flu, delivered right up my nose, courtesy of those two bloody ducks on my pond.
Whatever, if they breed, I will post some more pretty pictures of the fluffy ducklings. Heaven forbid the foxes should get them.