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My Dad sometimes speaks in what I like to call, "Duckisms". Oh, it's nothing new and it has nothing to do with Alzheimer's. He's been doing it for years. As long as I can remember it was, "Daddy, where you goin'?" "Duck huntin'!" he'd say. Or if we asked, "Where have you been?", he would answer, "I've been duck huntin'." And even, "What are you about to do?" "Duck huntin' was the answer.

Once he called all of us into the living room to watch what he said was a really good movie. When we asked him the name of it, he told us, "Three Ducks in a Fountain." It was actually "To Kill a Mockingbird." He was right, it was a good movie and all of us kids laughed when he told us the ducks in a fountain name. All humor aside, sometimes we'd get a little aggravated when he wouldn't answer our questions and instead feed us his duck lines.

At one point, when I was about 16 or 17 he actually owned about seven ducks. He had a pen for them on the far side of the yard. I'd see him standing in front of the pen after he got home from work, his arms clasped behind his back. He'd feed the ducks and then stand there and watch them. I think, after a hard day at work, it relaxed him to watch them waddle and quack around the pen. Unfortunately for him, my Mom didn't like the ducks. When the wind blew the wrong way the stench from the duck pen would hit you like a slap in the face. Daddy's ducks were doomed. Mom bugged him about it until he finally caved in and told her he'd get rid of them. I don't know where he took them. I know we didn't eat them (good lord, I hope we didn't!). One weekend he took them somewhere in his truck and later he dismantled the duck pen. No more ducks.

He still uses "Duckisms" to this day although he's a little confused about the appropriate time to use them. He might answer my question about what he wants for breakfast with, "Duck huntin'", but I know what he means; eggs over easy and plenty of fresh, hot coffee.