First, a brief, recent, chronological history of Perky the duck:
January 15: A Florida hunter shoots a female ring-neck duck, assumes the fowl is dead, and puts it in the refrigerator.
January 17: The hunter’s wife opens the fridge door; the duck lifts its head and looks at her; she freaks out and tells her daughter to bring the duck to the Goose Creek Wildlife Sanctuary.
January 20: An Associated Press article spreads the story worldwide; the duck becomes known as Perky.
January 23: The Goose Creek Wildlife Sanctuary begins treating Perky’s wounded wing and leg.
January 27: Perky dies on the operating table while having a wing repaired. Veterinarian David Hale performes CPR and resuscitates the duck.
January 28: An Associated Press article reports Perky’s second narrow escape.
(Some of the better headlines:
Injured fowl-feathered friend keeps ‘duck’-ing death [Edmonton Sun];
This plucky, lucky duck gets new quack at life [Toronto Star];
‘She’s alive!’: Duck ducks death a third time [Minneapolis Star Tribune])
Today: Perky continues to recover at Goose Creek.
All of this is very heartwarming, of course. But from a hunter’s perspective, is there something a little wacko about all of this? What’s your take?