Sybil's second go on ducks wasn't any more productive than her first, but I finally figured out why. I had great uncle Ho out to help with the ducks, using him to push them towards and around her, thus keeping them from having to make the big circuit of the arena several times. At one point, the ducks literally split around her as she sat there watching - not the ducks, but the calves that had gathered outside the arena to see what was going on in there. That explains volumes. Duck disinterest runs on the male side of the family pretty strongly, all the way back to great granddad Chaps. Catera (great grandma) had a brother, Bruce, in training with Sharon Simmons up in Washington, and she said he'd climb or jump the fence while they were working sheep, go out, find the cattle, gather them up and bring them in before she could get out of the pen and go get him. Both Ho and daddy Hoke would much rather work cattle than anything else (especially ducks). Momma Cricket literally hates sheep, and I can just imagine what she'll think of ducks. So it looks like Sybil comes by it honestly. She's asleep right now in my office on my foot, after a little one-on-one time with great uncle Ho. His patience with her is just amazing for an old man, but she also has a lot of respect for him, something her brothers could learn a little from. Henry got a good scolding from the old man yesterday; no blood, but hurt feelings for sure. Hopefully, he learned from it.