I backed over a duck last night. Miley had brought it near my car, and I guess it hid there are all day. When I moved the car, I crushed it.
I was very upset about it, and I still am.
I decided the only thing I could do is give a proper funeral. I had seen fox tracks the night before about 30 yards from a grove of aspen. As I’ve noted before, I want my own ashes spread in an aspen grove. Quaking aspen are among the first real trees to colonize a pasture or clear-cut in the forest succession. I want my elements to break down and become part of the aspen, which will feed grouse while they live, and then as they decay, they will feed the oaks and hickories and maples that come with the maturing forest.
I placed it there in the grove.
This is the duck that used to eat from my hand. The tamest of the lot. It had a good life, swimming and foraging as ducks do.
But it is gone now.
My only hope is that maybe a young fox that is just dispersing from his parents’ territory will come by and enjoy a free meal.
That’s all I can hope for.
This is my penance for my killing.
Pay it forward.
I am an odd fellow mourning the death of an animal like a duck.
If it were a wild animal or a real farm bird, that would be a different matter.
But it’s too much like family to eat.
So it must be passed along into the carbon cycle.
Like other normal kids, my friends and I, as older infants, would have funerals for passed away pets, but then we grew up and lost a lot of that magical empathy for a long long time, but in my case at least the feelings returned as I became seriously senior, having lost various friends, family and pets along the way. Funny thing was last week a deceased with exactly my name and age appeared in the obituary columns of the local paper and even some of the things expressed seemed coincidentally apt. But only one person from my past phoned up in sympathy – so now I know!!!
I’m sorry for your loss. For what it is worth, I don’t think it is an odd thing to do at all, but rather natural and appropriate for anyone who is both compassionate to animals and realistic about death. Also, I think you should be kind to yourself, too. It was an accident, and I don’t think it requires penance. You took an sad accident and gave it some meaning. You are a good man.
Your elegy for the duck is great! I, too, would feel terrible if I accidentally hit an animal while driving. When we lived in rural Rhode Island, the worst thing about my commute was seeing all the possums, raccoons, stray dogs and cats that had been hit by cars the night before. Every one of those animals wanted to live, just as we do. And, if they had litters, what would happen to them? The Canada Geese also were frequent victims of country drivers, who often boasted about how fast they could navigate our winding roads. Not being able to see around a curve means you’ll definitely hit a creature crossing the road.
The saddest kill I saw started early one morning. A mother cat was shooing her kitten to catch a mouse across the road. I stopped, of course, and got to see the kittten proudly bringing its prey to the mother. When I drove home that night, I saw the kitten dead in the road. Years later, I still feel sad when I think of it.
You are not only paying it forward. You’re fostering empathy for helpless animals, helpless in the wake of humans.
PS, I don’t think you should feel guilty about the accident. There’s no way you could see the duck out of your ear-view mirror, and no reason to expect a duck to be there! What bothers me is the carnage on the road because of careless drivers
Or the intentional carnage caused by some of the psychopaths.
You did good Scottie.
Naturally if we value life we will mourn its loss especially if the loss had no purpose or meaning. All living things are so much more than the sum of their physical components and death reminds us of this fact.Sad think to lose an animal like that and I too hope some carnivore or scavenger finds this bonus in the aspen.
Sorry to hear about your loss, but I salute you for your balancing act (for want of a better phrase).
I don’t think you’re odd at all. This wasn’t just a duck, it was a duck you had a personal bond with that was the casualty of a blameless accident. If you hadn’t gone through the range of emotions you did over what happened, then you would be odd in a rather scary way. I’m sorry for your loss, but glad that your compassion and pragmatism mean that the duck’s death was not totally meaningless.