I have a friend. Let’s call him Derek.

Three years ago Derek and I decided to paddle an inflatable canoe down a stretch of the Red River. In order to practice for the big trip, we took a canoe out onto the stormy seas of the Duck Pond in Coppell, Texas.

While paddling around in a big circle, we happened upon a gray and brown duckling, who was valiantly trying to swim and stay alive despite having its entire left wing and most of its left side chewed off by an unknown predator.

I called out to Derek, “So should we call the vet and maybe take the little guy in to get stitched up?”

Derek wasted no time or thought in responding, “No, we shouldn’t call the vet, we should just put it out of its misery.”

Without giving me even a second to respond, Derek raised his plastic $12.99 paddle from Wal-Mart over his head and with lightning-quick speed and unrivaled fury brought the paddle down on the poor duckling. Maybe three times.

Stunned, I sat helpless in the canoe.

Twenty seconds later the now lifeless duckling sank to a watery grave. With lust in his eyes, Derek turned to me and uttered the now immortal phrase:

“Well, we couldn’t save its life, but we did kill it.”