I do not own the Disney Ducks.
Now, I have never read the comics, so this is just my take on how the triplets came to be with Donald.
Enjoy!
An Uncle and His Nephews
Donald Duck stared mindlessly at his television screen, slouched as deep into the couch as possible. The rain pounded against his glass windows and lighting illuminated the pitch black sky. This particular stormy night found the duck alone. Daisy was off with Minnie doing who-knows-what and Mickey...well, he forgot what Mickey said he would be doing.
But it didn't really matter. Donald was looking forward to spending a few hours by himself. It would be the relaxation time he'd been needing for a while.
A sudden, frantic pounding at his door startled him out of his lethargic state. Donald had seen enough horror movies taking place during storms to be paranoid about what might be on the other side. He dropped to the hardwood floor and crawled past the windows and into the front hall, but by then the pounding had ceased. Cautious, Donald slowly stood and peered through the peephole.
"Waaaak!" At what he saw, he wasted no time in throwing his front door wide open. There, on his porch, were three sobbing ducklings.
His nephews. Five-months-old Huey, Dewey and Louie.
"Della!" he hollered in anger as he scooped the crying infants from the cold cement. "Della, you no good irresponsible b-"
Huey-or was it Dewey?-screamed loudly just as another crack of thunder sounded. Donald hastily glanced around the empty yard and deserted street before retreating back into his house, knowing that his sister was long gone. He brought the ducklings to the living room and carefully placed them on the couch. Now that the booming sounds of the storm were not as loud and they were warm, their full-blown sobs were now pitiful sniffles.
Donald ran a wing through his feathers, unsure of what to do next. Della had always been irresponsible. She had always been a poor decision maker. When childhood departed them they hadn't talked as much. Donald had tried (as only a sibling can) to convince his sister she was being stupid with her actions. But like a sibling, she didn't listen. And so when she proclaimed she was pregnant (with no clue of who the father was) Donald was worried. Della was not parental material.
But he had never thought she would do something like this.
"I can't believe her," he muttered furiously. "She dumps three kids on my doorstep in the pouring rain. I know about as much about kids as she does! Who does she think she is?"
One of the boys started whimpering. Donald bent down and lifted him up. A green hospital bracelet hung from his tiny wing, for the purpose of being able to tell the triplets apart until they displayed distinctive characteristics. Donald squinted at the loopy handwriting that labelled the bracelet. "So, you're Louie."
Louie babbled and yanked on Donald's beak. He scowled. "Be nice to your Uncle Donald."
Louie only giggled and yanked harder. Donald grunted, held him out at arm's length and shook his head. "Little brat."
What was he going to do? He supposed he could turn his guest room into a nursery. His job paid decently. But did he really have the ability to take care of three boys?
"I could always give them up for adoption in Della's place," Donald muttered aloud. It would be the practical thing to do.
A gurgling noise caught his attention, drawing him from his thinking. The duckling with the blue bracelet (Dewey) blew a spit bubble. It popped and he squealed happily. Donald felt his beak twitch into a smile. Huey, bearing a red bracelet, reached up and pinched Dewey's cheek. Dewey immediately started to bawl and Donald quickly scooped him up before he decided to retaliate against his squealing brother.
"That wasn't very nice," he said sternly.
Huey stared back at him with wide eyes. His brothers were curled up against Donald's body contentedly, Dewey's cries now soft whimpers. Huey stretched out his wings hopefully and Donald carefully shuffled the ducklings in his arms before picking up Huey.
"You are going to be a little troublemaker," Donald predicted. He bounced Huey a little and the duckling giggled.
Louie yawned widely and snuggled closer. Dewey stuck his wing in his mouth and closed his eyes. Donald stared at the feathery bundles in his arms, his chest swelling with such a strong warmth he had never felt before.
In that moment, he made a decision that would change the course of his life-he would raise the triplets as if they were his own.
...
Daisy Duck entered Donald's house, unannounced as always. She slipped her copy of the key into her purse and followed the sound of crying toddlers, which seemed to be the dominant sound in the home nowadays.
Her boyfriend was in the living room trying to get two-year-old Dewey to eat his vegetables. Huey was watching cartoons on the television and Louie was colouring a picture at the coffee table. "Hey, Donald," she greeted, giving Louie's head a fond ruffle. "Having fun?"
Donald shot her a glare. Food covered the front of his blue sailor shirt. "Very funny. You wanna try, hotshot?"
Daisy dropped her purse onto the couch and bent down in front of Dewey. He kept his beak firmly closed and glared warily at her, his small wings crossed defiantly.
"Hey, Dew," Daisy cooed. "Will you eat some yummy vegetables for your Aunt Daisy?"
"Is that another marriage hint?" Donald asked suspiciously.
Daisy elbowed him in the side in response. Dewey eyed the mushed-up carrot-laden spoon and shook his head stubbornly.
"If you don't eat it, the tickle-monster will come!" she warned.
Another shake of the head.
"I warned you." Daisy gently tickled Dewey's sides and the toddler squealed. She carefully slipped the spoon in his open mouth. Dewey's face screwed up but he swallowed the carrots.
"Bad!" he wailed.
"Good," Daisy corrected.
Satisfied, Donald left her the task of feeding Dewey and collapsed on the couch.
"Unca Donald!" Louie tugged on the hem of his shirt.
Donald grunted as he picked the boy up and set him in his lap. Louie held up the picture he had finished colouring and smiled proudly. Donald squinted at the scribbled figures that he guessed resembled him, Huey, Dewey, Daisy and Louie. "It's very pretty."
"Pwetty!" Louie repeated, hugging his picture to his chest.
Donald glanced beside him and groaned when he noticed that Huey was no longer where he should be, as was often the case. "Doggone it! Daisy, did you see where Huey went?"
"You could try the kitchen," suggested Daisy, getting another portion into Dewey's mouth.
Donald balanced Louie on his hip and hurried into the kitchen. "Waaaak!" he shouted at discovering the sight before him.
Huey giggled happily, the cookie box in his lap. He had crawled onto the chair in order to reach it on the table and was now covered in chocolate chips and cookie crumbs. Donald snatched the box from him and shook his head. "You little rascal."
"Mine!" Huey wailed, reaching for the goodies.
Donald slipped the cookies on a higher shelf. "Not yours. Leave the cookies alone!"
Huey screwed up his face and started to wail. Donald tucked the sobbing toddler under his arm. "Crying won't get you anywhere. Hey, Daisy! Want to help me with bath time?"
"You're on your own!" was his girlfriend's smart response.
...
The thunder exploded. Three-year-old Dewey shivered and squeezed his eyes shut. But he couldn't escape the scary noises, no matter how hard he tried. His brothers were sound asleep, deep in dreamland and unaffected by the storm.
Hugging his teddy close the duckling tumbled out of bed and shuffled down the hallway. He stopped outside of Donald's bedroom door and gulped uncertainly. His uncle was always cranky when he was woken up during the night, and he didn't like it when Donald was cranky.
Another thunder clap, perhaps the loudest one yet, sounded and caused him to yelp in panic and charge into his uncle's room. He scrambled up into bed and snuggled under the covers.
Donald groaned as the bed shifted as Dewey attempted to get comfortable. He rolled over and peeled back the blanket so that he could see his nephew properly. "What are you doing?" he asked tiredly.
"Sleeping," Dewey mumbled. The thunder roared again and he whimpered. "Big booms are scary."
He pressed against his uncle's side and Donald smiled slightly. "The angels are only bowling."
"They must be winning," Dewey yawned and his eyes fluttered closed.
Donald laughed softly. "I guess so. Go to sleep and try not to steal the covers."
"Night, Unca Donald."
"Good night, Dewey."
...
Five-year-old Louie raced down the hallway. His brothers were hot on his tail feathers. Giggling madly he slid down the wooden floors. Huey and Dewey screeched to a stop as their brother flailed about. "You're outta control!" Dewey cried.
Louie waved his wings in the air in an attempt to gain balance, but it was no use. He yelped in panic and slammed into the wooden table by the stairs. The vase resting on the surface flew off and shattered against the floor. Louie tumbled head-over-webs and sprawled by the door. "Uh-oh."
Donald flew out of the kitchen and stood at the end of the hallway. "What's the big idea?" he demanded.
"Sorry, Uncle Donald." Louie climbed to his webbed feet. "It was an accident."
"Everything is an accident!" Donald said in exasperation. "I told you a million times! No running in the house!"
"Sorry," Louie said again. "I'll clean it up." He bent down to pick up the broken glass. Donald was there in an instant, preventing the boy from cutting his wing on the sharp shards.
"I'll clean it up," Donald corrected. "Go play in your room."
"Yes, Uncle Donald." The energetic triplets took off once more.
"And no jumping on the bed!"
...
Donald had always known that he would be asked the question. So when the five-year-old triplets came into his room after a school day filled with Mother's Day crafts in preparation for the upcoming holiday, he was already prepared with an answer.
"Uncle Donald?" Huey asked as he climbed on the bed beside his uncle, leaving his backpack by the door. "How come we don't have a Mommy?"
Dewey and Louie stared up at him with interest. Donald sighed. "Well boys..."
But he couldn't seem to find the words for the answer he had practiced over the years. Maybe he wasn't as prepared as he thought he was. How do you break it to three boys that their mother wasn't responsible enough to take care of them? That she just left them on a porch like trash?
"Your mother just wasn't ready for children," he chose go with.
"Then why did she hatch us?" Dewey asked in confusion.
"She wasn't much of a thinker either," Donald muttered before he could stop himself.
"She didn't want us, did she?" Louie whispered, his expression downcast.
"I'm sure she cared." In her own way. "She gave you to me, didn't she?" Because she was too stubborn to put them up for adoption. But I'm glad she didn't.
Huey frowned. "So we do have a Mommy, but she's not here? She gave us to you?"
"That's right. And to think, I would have missed out on all of this by enlisting in the Navy when I planned to."
Louie remembered his uncle telling them lots of stories about various relatives that were in the Navy. "You were gonna join the Navy?"
"Yeah. But now that I have you to take care of I'll have to wait until you're a little older." Donald glanced at the clock. "I better start supper. Go play, and don't run on the stairs!"
The triplets filed out of the room and down the hallway. "What's wrong Louie?" Huey asked, noticing his brother's sad face.
"Uncle Donald wanted to join the Navy. But because we're here, he can't. I bet he wanted to do lots of stuff he can't do now because of us," Louie sighed.
"He doesn't seem to mind," Dewey pointed out.
"I mind," Louie said stubbornly. "Uncle Donald does lots of nice things for us. I wanna do something nice for him!"
"Like what?"
"He really wants to join the Navy. But he can't because he has to take care of us," Louie explained. "If we left, Uncle Donald will be able to do what he wants."
Huey frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Well, I'm going." Louie stomped up the stairs. Huey and Dewey exchanged glances before hurrying after their brother.
When they entered the room they shared they witnessed Louie tossing various items into his backpack. "Where are ya gonna go?" Dewey asked.
"Maybe to Daisy's," Louie replied, stuffing his teddy into his bag. "Are ya coming with me?"
Not wanting their brother to go alone, Dewey and Huey started packing.
...
Daisy had just put the finishing touches on her dinner when the doorbell rang. "Who could that be?" she wondered. She fixed her bow before going to open the door. "Boys?" she exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Can we stay with you for a bit?" Louie asked.
Daisy took in their bags and frowned in concern. Had Donald blown his top at them again? "Come in, boys. I just finished making supper."
The triplets entered Daisy's home and put their bags by the door. Huey smiled happily at the aroma of spaghetti and garlic bread and eagerly ran into the kitchen with his brothers close behind. Daisy watched as they clambered onto her wooden dining chairs. "So boys, does your Uncle Donald know that you're here?"
Of course he doesn't.
Louie gulped nervously. "No. We wanted to give him a vacation."
Daisy arched an eyebrow as she started putting food on their plates. "A vacation? How come?"
"Uncle Donald wants to join the Navy. But he can't because he has to take care of us," Louie explained. "I bet he wants to do a bunch of stuff! So is it okay if we stay with you for a bit? Just until Uncle Donald finishes doing what he wants to do without us in the way?"
If Donald implied that the triplets were holding him back, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind, Daisy thought angrily. She adored the triplets. They were little angels, in her opinion.
The phone started to ring then and Daisy smiled slightly. She had a feeling she knew who was on the other end. She left the boys to eat and answered it. "Hello?"
"Daisy! The boys are gone! They're not in the house or the yard and-"
Daisy held the phone away from her ear as her boyfriend's frantic shouts increased in volume. "Donald! Relax. The boys are with me."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY'RE WITH YOU?"
"They're in my kitchen, eating spaghetti," Daisy snapped. "Don't yell at me!"
"I"M NOT YELLING! THOSE LITTLE BRATS! THEY KNOW BETTER THAN TO LEAVE THE HOUSE WITHOUT ME! I'M GONNA-"
Daisy rolled her eyes and cut him off before he could go on a tirade. "Donald, they came here because they wanted to give you a vacation."
"A what?"
"A vacation. They seem to think that they're holding you back from doing what you want to do. Like joining the Navy." Daisy put her wing on her hip. "What did you say to make them think that?"
"Nothing! I-oh, doggone it! Those little pests." His tone was no longer angry, but one of realization. "I'm coming over! Don't let them out of your sight!"
Daisy shook her head as Donald hung up on her. "Men."
Eight minutes later, there was a firm knock on her door. "Who could that be?" Daisy muttered sarcastically, getting up from her seat and going into the front hall. She opened the door and stared at her frantic boyfriend. "Whatever brings you here?"
Donald gave her an unimpressed look. "Hiya toots," he drawled. His wing twitched impatiently. "I believe you have three heathens that belong to me."
"They're in the kitchen. And don't be too hard on them!" she called as he rushed by her and into the kitchen.
Dewey nearly dropped his glass of milk when Donald stormed in. "Uncle Donald!"
"What's the big idea?" he demanded. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I go to get you for supper and I find out I'm the only one in the blasted house!"
"It was his idea!" Dewey cried, pointing to Louie. Huey smacked him in the wing and Louie scowled.
"Well?" Donald crossed his wings. "What's this about giving me a vacation?"
Louie glanced at Daisy, who had slipped into the kitchen. She gave him an encouraging smile. The green-clothed duckling stared at his webs. "Well, you said you couldn't join the Navy because of us. We wanted to give you a break so that you could."
"I can join the Navy anytime I want," Donald corrected. "But I don't want to at the moment. I like taking care of you troublesome brats. You're not preventing me from doing anything."
"Really?" Louie asked hopefully.
Donald lifted the five-year old into the air. "Really."
Huey and Dewey jumped from their chairs to hug their uncle. "We love you, Uncle Donald."
"I love you too. And you're grounded for life."
"Aw, Uncle Donald!"
...
Six-year old Huey gripped the handlebars of his bike. His brothers already knew how to ride a bike without training wheels and he was desperate to prove he could as well.
"Start pedaling," Donald instructed. "And don't pedal too fast or else you'll fall. When you want to break, pedal backwards."
Huey nodded. He started pedaling and Donald jogged beside him, his wing holding on to the back of the bike. Eventually he let go and Huey sailed down the street. The boy enjoyed feeling the wind running through his feathers and picked up more speed, ignoring his uncle's cries to slow down.
His tire hit a pothole and he went flying into the deserted street. Donald was there in a second. He picked up the sniffling Huey and checked him over. "Just a few scraps. Nothing a band-aid won't cure. I told you not to go too fast!"
"I wanna learn to ride a bike," Huey mumbled. "Dewey and Louie can. Why's it taking me so long?"
"Everyone learns at their own speed. You'll get it eventually. You just have to be patient."
"It musta taken you a long time to learn how to ride a bike, then."
"Why do you say that?"
"You have no patience!"
"Alright, you pest. You just earned a visit from the tickle monster."
...
"Boys, can you come here for a minute?"
Eight-year-old Huey, Dewey and Louie dropped their comic books and raced down the stairs and into the living room. Donald was sitting on the couch, staring at a letter in his wings. "Yes, Uncle Donald?"
"Do you remember when I told you that I want to join the Navy?" Donald asked slowly.
Dewey nodded. "Uh-huh."
"Well, I wrote to Uncle Scrooge-you remember him, right?"
Huey wrinkled his nose. "The cheapskate?"
Donald rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his beak. "Yes, him. I wrote him a letter-you know how he hates us racking up his phone bill. Actually, I'm surprised he paid the few cents for the stamp. Anyway, the thing is, I was thinking of joining the Navy now."
"What?" Louie cried.
"Hold on a second. I'm not getting any younger-as you keep telling me-and I don't want to miss out on too much of your lives. So I'm going to enlist for a few years. If I do so, you'll be staying with Uncle Scrooge. I managed to talk him into it."
"Aw, not Uncle Scrooge!" Huey cried.
"Why can't Daisy watch us?" Dewey asked.
"Daisy's not family. I can pass guardianship onto Uncle Scrooge easier than I can onto Daisy. Besides, I don't think Daisy would be able to watch you heathens for more than a week." Donald stared at them seriously. "But this is also your decision. Is it alright for me to enlist in the Navy for a few years and you stay with Uncle Scrooge during that time?"
Normally, when it came to decisions, Donald took over. But this one was big. It impacted them all. It was only fair for his nephews to have a say.
Huey wanted to refuse. But he knew that his uncle had wanted to join the Navy for a long time. "I guess so."
Dewey crossed his arms. "Fine. But I don't like it."
Louie sighed. "We're with you, Uncle Donald. But you'll come and visit, right?"
"Of course."
"And you'll send lots of letters?" Dewey pressed.
"All the time."
"And you'll always be home for Christmas?" Huey asked.
Donald smiled. "Wouldn't miss it."
"We're gonna miss you," Dewey mumbled as he and his brothers tackled their uncle in a hug.
"I'll miss you boys to." Donald ruffled their feathers fondly. "But I'll be back, promise. Just think of this as one great big adventure."
Huey scoffed. "Please. How exciting can living with Uncle Scrooge be?"