When I went out to feed the livestock late this afternoon, I found the lame duck lying on its side motionless and no longer breathing. I was glad that I had kept all the ducks inside the run today so that the little call duck had been surrounded by his friends when he left them. Tomorrow morning we will dig a hole in the vineyard and bury the duck near the beautiful rose bushes. RIP little duck.
Not “my” little duck…?