A few evenings ago Dolores called me to the front door to watch "Ducky Wucky," the female mallard duck that visits us most evenings and some mornings to nibble slowly and carefully on sunflower seeds. This evening "Rockina," our near-resident mama raccoon was busily chowing down....also, it seemed, greedily....on the sunflower seeds.

Rockina had beaten Ducky Wucky to the evening snack.

As we observed the drama that followed, it seemed to me to be parallel to the politicians in Washington, D.C., those guys and gals we send to represent us and find them instead representing themselves. At least most of them.

I just haven't quite figured out the parable.

"Ducky Wucky" tried to hint to "Rockina" that she would like to share in the little pile of sunflower seeds on which Rockina was chowing down as fast as her little raccoon paws and lips could go. Finally, Ducky Wucky waddled to within a foot of Rockina and quacked loudly. Rockina fled the scene. Here Ducky Wucky's enjoying a solitary repast. Milt Gross photo.

Rockina loves to hog the feast, as it seems do many of our noble politicians down there in all the D.C. heat, scurrying around making plans for our help at their next election.

Ducky Wucky tried to be polite, as one brand of our Washington gang seems to try usually in vain. I won't say which brand is polite, like Ducky Wucky, or which likes to gobble and hog the feed trough because this is not a political column.

It just seems that I observe kind of the same behavior down there among our elected.

Ducky Wucky quacked quietly and politely at first, reminding me of that party which seems to have tried repeatedly to compromise to get things done that could help the nation. When alone, Ducky Wucky nibbles slowly and, if I should step out to do the unnecessary chores that sunflower-seed-spreading homeowners find to do, she looks at me. Occasionally she will waddle away a dozen feet, then like a good politician casually circle her way back to the pile.

Rockina, on the other hand, goes at it paw and cute little mouth, as fast as she can.

"I'm as cute as a mama raccoon can be," she may say to us.

But she also wants every nibble for herself. Does she know we voted for her to have these sunflower seeds? Does she care?

We've never seen Ducky Wucky bring her little ones to the pile. She must keep them hidden in the woods nearby. But she must be caring for them.

Rockina cares for hers too, only in a more blatant way. This has largely stopped for awhile, but Mama was appearing in the afternoon -- before raccoons are scheduled for their nightly news appearance -- climbing one or two trees to grab the suet cages, yank the suet cages down, and make off with the high-carb goodies mama raccoons who are nursing little ones need.

Fine, but then she started bringing a couple of her little tigers -- oops, raccoons -- in the evening. She would chow down then as well as in the afternoon. A good politician knows how to get to that voter-sponsored feed trough not just once but as many times as he or she can to grab all he or she can grab.

Then the little ones would show their greedy political side by fighting after dark, usually after we're in bed, exhausted and trying to sleep after busily providing sunflower seeds for raccoons and giving Mama extra suet on the ground to persuade her to keep her soft little mittens out of the woodpecker's caged delight on the tree.

"She's cute, but I'm tired and we're going broke feeding her," dolores one day said.

Maybe there's a parallel to those folk in Washington. Some of them give such cute speeches and appear to be concerned totally with our -- we who vote -- welfare. Some of them may actually care about the folk they're representing. Some of them clearly care about keeping their own feed trough full and overflowing.

"Oh," they might think but never say aloud, "you say this is hurting you, you dumb little people who were stupid enough to vote me into office. That's all right. I've become a millionaire while you're sitting at home complaining with frustration.

After Ducky Wucky gave up and waddled some 20 feet to the foot of a big pine tree, away from her wonderful pile of sunflower seeds being hogged by a raccoon, I intervened. After all, doesn't the Good Book tell us to have dominion over the critters of the earth. I don't think that means depriving them of their environment, raising them in awful caged-in conditions, killing them for our supper table -- although I'm not a vegetarian, and giving them to us in the frozen-food aisle.

So in my biblical role as dominion-over-the-critters guy, I spoke to her.

There he goes again, talking to animals.

"Look, Ducky Wucky, why are you letting her -- that nasty party -- gobble it all down. You just waddle yourself back over there and tell her you're an unelected member of this group too," I said.

Or words to that effect.

I know ducks don't care that much about what people say, but I was taken back a bit when Ducky Wucky turned, waddled over to Rockina and perched -- or whatever ducks do to stand -- behind Rockina a foot or so from her.

"Quack, quack, quack," Ducky Wucky complained loudly.

Rockina fled.

I still think there a parable of politics somewhere in the quacky events of that evening.

I just can't find it.

Milt Gross can be reached for corrections, harassment, or other purposes at lesstraveledway@midmaine.com.

Milton M. Gross Copyright 2011