6 X 8” Watercolor on Arches, Unframed, Mounted on archival mat, Original art includes special Story Card printed on fine art paper and Certificate of Authenticity.
He lives with a real football coach for the Oregon Ducks, so Butterbean Biscuit has developed strong opinions about leadership, morale, and snack distribution.
Butterbean has decided they are also a coach. Not for cats, obviously. For ducks. The problem is that Butterbean has misunderstood the entire job. Butterbean thinks “Coach for the Ducks” is an arrangement where, eventually, someone brings out duck as a reward for excellent performance. So Butterbean runs drills in the yard with intense seriousness. Butterbean gives pep talks. Butterbean paces like a professional. Butterbean “reviews film,” which is actually watching birds through the window with a clenched jaw.
Butterbean’s most dedicated trainees are the Beelings—tiny recruits with terrible cardio and enormous opinions. They practice formation flying. They practice “motivational buzzing.” They run snack‑retrieval drills (Butterbean calls them “conditioning”). Mostly, though, they scout. If any duck so much as looks at the yard, the Beelings are dispatched immediately to gather intelligence. They circle. They hover. They ask casual questions like, “So. Hypothetically. Where do you hang out. And when.” And if the duck claims not to know any other ducks, the Beelings switch to the hard tactics: intense eye contact and a slow, suspicious orbit.
And that’s why Butterbean wears those tiny white devil horns—because he is always on the edge of being naughty- every time the word “Ducks” is mentioned, Butterbean licks his lips like a little criminal and tries very hard to look innocent.
6 X 8” Watercolor on Arches, Unframed, Mounted on archival mat, Original art includes special Story Card printed on fine art paper and Certificate of Authenticity.
He lives with a real football coach for the Oregon Ducks, so Butterbean Biscuit has developed strong opinions about leadership, morale, and snack distribution.
Butterbean has decided they are also a coach. Not for cats, obviously. For ducks. The problem is that Butterbean has misunderstood the entire job. Butterbean thinks “Coach for the Ducks” is an arrangement where, eventually, someone brings out duck as a reward for excellent performance. So Butterbean runs drills in the yard with intense seriousness. Butterbean gives pep talks. Butterbean paces like a professional. Butterbean “reviews film,” which is actually watching birds through the window with a clenched jaw.
Butterbean’s most dedicated trainees are the Beelings—tiny recruits with terrible cardio and enormous opinions. They practice formation flying. They practice “motivational buzzing.” They run snack‑retrieval drills (Butterbean calls them “conditioning”). Mostly, though, they scout. If any duck so much as looks at the yard, the Beelings are dispatched immediately to gather intelligence. They circle. They hover. They ask casual questions like, “So. Hypothetically. Where do you hang out. And when.” And if the duck claims not to know any other ducks, the Beelings switch to the hard tactics: intense eye contact and a slow, suspicious orbit.
And that’s why Butterbean wears those tiny white devil horns—because he is always on the edge of being naughty- every time the word “Ducks” is mentioned, Butterbean licks his lips like a little criminal and tries very hard to look innocent.
