Diary of a SubUrban Housewife

Dead Duck

Chuck has gone on and on about the ducks lately. They've been a source alternating amusement and frustration around here for a while.

A classic duck moment: Chuck called me at the office one day and asked me if I heard ducks quacking. Well...I work in downtown LA in a 58 story highrise. And while I have a window office, I don't hear much of anything from the outside in my office. So I said ummm...no, I didn't. He clarified and asked if I'd heard ducks quacking while I was home. I said I thought I had, because while I thought I had, it seemed so unlikely that I had that I kinda put it out of my mind. He then announced that the neighbors had ducks. So yeah, that weird noise that sounded like ducks quacking, was ducks quacking.

So yeah, the neighbors had ducks. Or more accurately right this minute, duck.

It seems Zoe looked out her window and saw something in the street. She and Katie called me. We went outside and investigated.

Sure enough, squished duck.

So I went to the neighbors to tell them their duck had been run over. The son came, with a towel (at my suggestion, because, I mean really, who wants to carry a squished dead duck in their bare hands). He collected his duck.

I'm guessing they didn't run off to the vet, but rather, hit the dead duck jackpot because tomorrow is trash collection day. And I bet he puts it in my garbage bin.

So, the duck bought the farm.

Posted by beth at June 23, 2004 08:17 PM