Saturday on our way home from town, we nearly ran over a baby duck. My husband is a huge softy, an animal lover to the core, so we pulled over and he ran back to get the baby duck out of the road (her sibling had already been hit and killed). He looked in the woods next to the road and listened, but momma duck was no where around.
It was very, very young, maybe 2-3 days old at the most. We didn't know what else to do, so we took the baby duck home. We made her a wonderful little habitat, gave her a mirror and a stuffed animal, read and read about her on the internet and did everything we could to make her thrive.
The kids gently held her, loved her, and named her Pip. Just today she spent 30 minutes "nesting" in Sara's hair. This afternoon, Jake was holding her and I thought to myself I should take a picture, but of course, I didn't. Tonight we noticed she wasn't as lively as usually and after an hour or two while Todd held her, she died. We tried to wake up Jake so he could say goodbye, but he was so sound asleep. Todd and I made her a box and put in her favorite stuffed animal and buried her in our backyard. I don't know why, but I'm really upset about losing this little duck. We really feel like we let her down.
Good night, sweet Pip. We'll miss you.