I have a funny story about feeding ducks, but...I have to warn you, it discusses stupid things I did as a 14 year old kid...I am not proud of this, but I have to admit, it makes me laugh at my 14 year old self...
When I was 14, I was in a State Park in Maryland with my friend, Ricky Mabe. We saw some ducks swimming around, and for some unknown reason, thought it would be great fun to lure them over and try to nail one with a rock.
So my friend picked up some pebbles and started sprinkling them around like they were some kind of bird seed, and that brought the ducks to about ten yards away, but being the cautious creatures they were, would come no closer.
When they turned away because it was clear there was no food, I let fly with a rock at the closest duck.
To my everlasting surprise (and actual horror)...I hit one! To be honest, I didn’t think I had a snowball’s chance in hell of hitting it, but there it was, stone dead on the ground.
I immediately thought “Jesus...the thing is dead! I actually hit it!” and looked up in time to see a sign that I had not previously seen, large, prominent and clear: “Harming or abusing park wildlife is punishable by a $1000 fine and up to five years in jail.”
How I missed it can be explained by the fact that I was a dumb ass fourteen year old kid, bored enough to pay no attention to what I was actually doing. Horrified, I wildly looked around for any authority figures, fully expecting to see a Park Ranger right behind me. That was the way things went for me in those days.
When I saw no uniforms or anyone paying attention, I ran over and scooped the dead duck up off the ground, shoved it in my coat and zipped it up. Sweating profusely, I hissed to my friend “Let’s get the HELL out of here! Oh shit, oh shit...my dad is going to kill me...”
I had visions of my dad being forced to pay some huge fine, which would then be taken out of my hide. That is, if I didn’t go to jail or something. My friend, who had not seen the sign, was puzzled by my behavior and kept asking “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”
Without explaining to him, I turned on my heel as beads of forehead sweat took shape in spite of the crisp autumn air. Walking in an abnormally stiff gait with a lump under my jacket I was sure everyone could clearly see, I walked towards the ranger shack at the entranceway to the park that I had to pass to get out.
As I approached the shack, trying to look inconspicuous, my coat came to life. Doesn’t that damned dead duck under my coat come to life and begin wriggling and croaking dazed duck quacks! I quickly squirted by the bored ranger who could not have cared less and did not even look at me, and walked quickly down the road in horror as the duck began ever more strenouous wiggling and quacking.
I ripped open my coat and did a little dance of horror (because to a kid like me, there was nothing weirder and more panic inducing than some wild creature having a seizure inside your clothes) and that fricking duck landed on the road in a heap of feathers and began flopping around, eventually taking a half-running, half flying exit down the road and back into the park.
Really...I was horrified. It was a classic case of a stupid kid doing something without even bothering to think it through...I had not even given one iota of thought towards what I would do if I hit the duck. What was I thinking? Was I going to try to pluck it and eat it? Hardly...
Reminds me of the stories when someone hits a deer and, thinking it’s dead, stuffs it in the back seat and drives off. Of course, soon the deer comes around and hilarity ensues.