Well, the inevitable has happened. The duck, who so nonchalantly and bravely faced down oncoming traffic with casual disregard, has become roadkill. Sometime this evening it was apparently run down by one of those speeding cars it had such contempt for.

Seeing as how I’m nowhere near home I’ve had to rely Beth’s reportage of the carnage, but just knowing the duck got the noose makes me kind of sad. I liked having him/her/it quacking out in the middle of the road, it was kind of cool. I’ll miss the nightly ruckus it caused out front, with all the quacking and cars stopping to “help” it.

I take some solace in knowing that I tried to get it out of the road, but it persisted in coming back again and again. I don’t think there’s anything we could have done to keep that duck out of the street. Its end was inevitable.

And so, in remembrance of our dearly departed duck, I shall posthumously name it. Duck, you were Traction. Literally.

Quack.

Gmail has finally seen fit to give me some invitations to pass out, so I guess I’ll, uh, pass them out. I have three up for grabs — post a comment if you want one. If all of my readers ask for one, I figure that’ll leave me with at least one left over.