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@olivia inspired me to find one of my real-life stories and post it. Here it is.

Hope you guys enjoy.
<p style=”text-align: center;”>The Carnivorous Duck</p>
That duck hated me.

He was a big, white Muscovy with ugly red skin around his eyes, and beak, and my sister owned him. I already knew he was mean, and kept dropping hints about duck for Thanksgiving dinner, but my sister wouldn’t get rid of him. He was “just protecting the other ducks” she would say, but I could see that he had evil intentions behind those creepy, light blue eyes. His name was Gronkowski, but we called him Gronk for short. Sometimes I thought that he was just waiting for a chance to become a carnivorous duck, and one day he decided to try.  

It was a beautiful, sunny day, and I was just minding my own business. I was checking on my cat and her kittens, to be exact. About three feet in front of the shed where the cats stayed, was the edge of the duck pen, and when I came out of the cat shed, Gronk was there, waiting for me. I walked calmly by him. He had never tried to attack me when I ignored him before, so I figured today would be the same. I was wrong. I got about three steps away before he trampled down his electric netting fence (which wasn’t electrified) and came after me. He hissed and charged. I wasn’t excited about the idea of getting pecked, clawed, and hammered on, so I kicked him…hard. That didn’t phase him. He came after me again. My kick had obviously convinced him that I was indeed the enemy. He might have got a peck or two in, and I tried to kick him again, but with every second I was getting more alarmed that he might try to fly up and aim higher than my ankles. His claws would hurt, and his wings could definitely do some damage, especially if he went for my face. In desperation, I grabbed his neck. Almost instantly, he started slobbering out of his beak, dripping onto the ground. For a moment I was afraid I had seriously injured him. I wasn’t choking him, just holding his head so that he couldn’t peck me. I couldn’t hold him forever, especially if he decided to use his wings, so I looked around for a good weapon. I didn’t actually want to hurt him, but I didn’t want to be pounded and eaten by him either. There was a few sticks, but they were too far away, and with every moment he was getting angrier about being held by the neck. I only had one chance: run, and hope I was faster than him. I let go of his neck and took off up the path. I heard him hiss and the sound of his wings beating the air. Pictures of him flying up behind me and knocking me down before devouring me flashed before my mind. I fled. I dashed up the path to the yard. Halfway across the grass, I looked back. He was about twenty feet behind me, wings extended, beak wide open, and thoughts intent on eating me alive. The idea suddenly crossed my mind that I might not outrun him, but adrenaline kicked in and I ran like my pants were on fire. I don’t know if I could have run faster if it was a man-eating bear behind me instead of that duck. I charged up the porch steps and into the house, slamming the door behind me. Whew! At that moment, even though I hardly felt safe from my pursuer, I suddenly saw the humor in the whole deal. I imagined a teenager, eyes wide, hair flying, running across a yard for dear life…from a duck! I realized that the count for people eaten by ducks in the last hundred years was really small, probably zero. It would have all seemed kind of ridiculous, except for that image in my mind. The one of Gronk flapping towards me with his beak open in a malicious grin, and the thought that I had just barely escaped death. Yes, it was ridiculous, but it was real.

I wished that we could have a duck butchering party. But, until then, I would be on guard, never turn my back, and always carry a big stick.

Beware duck. 

In case you’re wondering, we did end up eating that duck. Yes. (Hopefully I’m not offending anyone by mentioning that he ended up as food. I do love animals…just not man-eating ducks😄).

@bama-rose Just in case you’re interested.😆