Donna O'Donnell Figurski's Blog

It's All About Me!

TidBits About Donna # 7 Herbie and the Monks

When I was a child, (about 12 or 13 years-old) I had a duck named Herbie. My Uncle Fred, who lived with us, won him at the Blessed Sacrament church fair in Erie, Pennsylvania. My mother wondered why he couldn’t have just won a goldfish, but not Uncle Fred, he set his sights high. And, frankly, he didn’t try to win a goldfish, he went for the duck.

Herbie was a white down, orange-billed Peking duck. He lived in our garage and waddled all over the yard. He owned that yard. We lived on the corner of two busy streets and everyone insisted that Herbie would meet his demise under the wheels of a car. Our yard was not fenced in. But, Herbie never went near the roads. He was a smart duck.

I loved to watch Herbie swim in my little sister, San’s swimming pool. I liked to watch San splash Herbie and it was fun to see Herbie splash her back. Of course, that made her giggle. He was a fun duck.

I didn’t particularly like to clean out Herbie’s area in the garage though, but alas, it had to be done. And I loved him, so I did it. He was a messy duck.

Then one day my parents announced that Herbie had to leave. He had to live somewhere else they said. We could keep him no longer. My tears flowed. I would miss Herbie and I knew he would miss me. He was a sad duck.

But, my dad told me that he knew of the perfect place for Herbie and he assured me that I could visit Herbie often. We drove Herbie to the country to a monastery. I knew Herbie would be safe there among the monks. And there was a lovely pond for him to swim in with other ducks. It would be a good life! I tried to convince myself. I’m sure Herbie liked his new friends. He was a happy duck.

Then one day I went to visit and Herbie was no longer swimming with his friends. Rumor had it that Herbie had been the guest at the monk’s dinner table. He was a dead duck!

To this day, I still don’t trust monks.


January 12, 2010 - Posted by | TidBits About Donna


  1. I loved Herbie too, and I was really upset that we had to give him away. Had we put him on the pond at the golf course, we could have walked down the road to visit him, and the Monks wouldn’t have made a meal out of our beloved duck.

    Neither do I trust Monks!

    Comment by Sanner | January 12, 2010 | Reply

  2. Poor Herbie!

    Comment by donnaodonnellfigurski | January 13, 2010 | Reply

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