Ducks are resilient and this story has a happy ending.
This morning around 5:45, Maura suddenly sprung off my lap, alerted by a heavy double thump. Beryl had come through the cat door but not alone. Before I could get downstairs to stop her, she was trundling some rather large prey up into the studio.
It was a duck. Oh, fuck.
She scurried into the Killing Fields under the eaves. I politely and urgently asked her to let go, but no way was she releasing her new friend and future snack. She held on tight to its neck and carried it from end to end of the studio. I crawled along after her and when Beryl paused a moment to ponder her trajectory, I saw the duck take a breath.
I know that ducks will go limp and play dead in order to wait for escape so this one had a chance, if I could get it away from the cat. But I didn’t want to try to catch a duck in the house so I chased Beryl outside.
She carried the duck around for at least half an hour. Though I thought maybe she would eat it, that wasn’t her plan. She had found a playmate! She flung it into the air for the joy of catching it again. Then they did the Cat Door Challenge once more. I actually managed to pick them both up but I have no idea what I was thinking I’d do with them. Beryl struggled, I set them down, and she beat it through the cat door again with the duck wedged between her legs. They made a circuit around the inubashiri. Then she settled with her friend in the little side garden.
I was resigned to the fact that Beryl was going to kill the duck, if she hadn’t already. My heart was heavy and I needed closure so I went out to apologise to the duck and wish its spirit well in its the next place.
I found that Beryl had let go of the duck’s neck and was sitting on top of it. It was still breathing. It was still breathing!
I lifted her off the duck, turning her around to face me and telling her what a fierce warrior she is. As I praised Beryl, the duck stood up, opened its beak in a silent scream, and ran off. It waddled fast up Grandma’s path, past the lime tree, and into the tangle of the Upper East Side.
Beryl was suitably annoyed, but I held her tight and took her inside. I hope the bird flew off from the peak of the ridge. When I went out to check for it later, I couldn’t find Ms. Duck.
It does make me wonder where Beryl found this duck. She truly is a fierce hunter.
