Tales From the Funny Farm: Installment Three

This is one of my favorite stories. It's one that comes up in our family often, and we always get a good laugh from it. (Warning: this story may not be suitable for young children.)

Quackie and the Turtle
Growing up, we always had ducks around. Our land was five acres with a pond in the back, so it was perfect for our various flocks. Ducks are kind of like rabbits; they're always reproducing. It was often that we'd see a mommy duck with a line of ducklings waddling behind her. Because of the near-constant stream of babies, we weren't able to keep track of all of them, but we had our favorites, and Quackie was one of them. Now, none of our ducks were tame, per say, but Quackie was one of our oldest ducks, and she was pretty friendly. She didn't run away if we were in the pen with her.

One warm day, Mom, my sister Mindy, and I were sitting in the house with the windows open, enjoying the breeze, when we heard loud, hysterical quacking. This wasn't the normal, "Hey, when are you going to come feed me" quacking. This was more of a "I'm in big trouble" quacking. Mindy and I rushed down to the pond with Mom following close behind. When we got there, we found Quackie desperately trying to make it to the bank. She was trying with all her might, and when she saw us, she tried even harder. She somehow knew that if she could make it to us, she would be alright.

After a few minutes, Quackie got close enough that we could pull her in. As we grabbed a hold of her, we clearly saw our problem: a huge, ugly, mean snapping turtle had grasped her leg, and he wasn't letting go. We knew we had a problem, because once snapping turtles clasp onto something, they're in it for good. We knew that if we pulled Quackie up, that turtle was coming too.

Quickly, Mom turned around and grabbed a fence post that had been laying in the weeds. She picked that fence post up and slammed the turtle as hard as she could, but to no avail. After hitting him several times and making no progress, Mom turned to Mindy and me. "Girls, wait right here, and don't let Quackie go!" she said, as she ran back towards the house. Mindy and I waited, and soon Mom returned, pistol in her hand.

I can't recall how we got Quackie to stay on the shore as we backed away and Mom took her aim, but we all remember clearly that Mom shot the turtle, point blank, with that pistol. That got him to let go, as she'd aimed for his head, and Quackie's relief was immediate. She took off waddling towards the house without even showing the pain in her leg and rejoined her fellow ducklings.

We couldn't wait for my dad to get home from work that night. We told him how brave Quackie was and how heroic Mom had been as she saved Quackie's life. Dad was quite proud of all of us, and it's silly, but I think Quackie looked at us differently from then on...her human heroes.