My mom's duck story

"Not much there... I got the duck as a gift for breaking my arm to make me feel better (my brother Teddy got one also)... the duck's name was Donald Duck, but he turned into a Daisy Duck when he started laying eggs... he was mean... he chased me around the yard when I would carry out the dinner scraps to the pigs...you always keep the pigs away from the house (downwind) so you have to walk quite a ways to feed them. The ducks and the chickens knew I took the dinner scraps out and would chase me... they were vicious... When my parents asked my brother and I if we wanted to get rid of the ducks, Teddy chose to give his away...I didn't...we ate Donald."

When I asked my mom if I could post her story, she replied "I don't mind... just remember he was a vicious duck... chickens are too..."

I should mention that it was many years into my childhood before my mom was okay with eating chicken (and I think she still doesn't like it much). She always told us that they were nasty animals.