They came with the house. And they weren't the kind of pet I would have chosen to own if given a choice. But they weren't bad creatures. After their summer fuck-fest tapered off they calmed down and were pretty quiet and pleasant.
Today, while shovelling ourselves out of the blizzard that hit us several days ago I spotted one of the ducks mangled bodoes on the lawn. Something attacked it, taking a few chunks but nothing more. We bagged the body and went in search of the other two. We found one by the pond and signs of another attack but no body, though I expect it also is dead.
These were domestic ducks, bred for farm life. They can't fly and their movement on snow is very limited. There were tracks everywhere but we can't tell what it was that killed they. It might have been a fox as the animal was light enough not to sink in the snow. We spent an hour in the snow analysing the crime scene. We've been watching too goddman much CSI. In the end we determined that even if we knew what killed them they were gone and there was nothing we could do about it. No one else around us owns any ducks so there was no one to warn and no elaborate trap to set to catch the culprit.
So what am I going to do about it? Not a damn thing most likely. But it's sad nonetheless. I don't like to see any creature killed. My wife, who complained about the little buggers during the summer is really very sensitive to such things and I know it upset her a lot as well. They were curious creatures and always made us smile.