Quack
Today my son was taking care of one of the remaining dogs out in the front yard when he saw an old man walking down the street and behind him, about twenty yards, was a duck. No, not a chicken, a duck.

My son called to us and we went to the front and I looked out the window and my wife looked out the front door and the old man caught site of her and, from across the street, shouted
"What the heck is that!?" and pointed behind him. My wife replied "I think it belongs to the brown house on the corner there."

To which the man paused and pointed down the street and said, again shouting from across the street "Oh you think it belongs to the Viet Cong down there?!"

My wife paused, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle an incredulous laugh at the man announcing this to the entire street. She composed herself and told him that it belonged to the family on the OTHER corner, the one with the American flag hanging out front, but she didn't think that they were home. The old man nodded and kept going down the street.
Meanwhile, the duck's attention had been drawn to my wife talking out the door and my son standing on the front steps, and began to head toward our house. My wife and son came back inside, bringing the small "house dog" with them and my son went to the back of the house to observe the single living "outside dog" who was chained to a tree. My wife went on with whatever she was doing in the kitchen and I went back to my office. Not two minutes had passed before my son was calling again.
The duck had gone to our back yard and was chasing our dog around the tree it was tied to. The dog was frightened. Eventually the duck got our dog so wrapped up she caught her sizeable water tub on her chain and tipped it over. I think this was all part of the duck's master plan because after my son proceeded to refill the water tub the duck jumped in and began to bathe. Eventually it went on it's way, having gotten what it came for.

Our dog looked and must have felt so used.

This duck is a tame duck that lives on the corner and is owned, not by the VC, but by a white family that has lived here longer than us and speaks with no accent. We did not not file a report with the poultry police, but I'm sure somebody did, the way the citizens are on eggshells around here, ha ha. That old man looked scared enough...almost enough.

Wakefield