Guardian's Leader: "In Praise of Lame Ducks "

Tallahassee huntsman last week returned from a shooting trip with a ring-necked duck for his table. Two days later, his wife opened up the fridge to see the feathered feast lift up its head in greeting. Startled, she screamed at her daughter to rush it to the vet, a journey that transformed the bird from nutritious target into living being, deserving of nurture and protection. Staff at Goose Creek sanctuary marvelled at the tenacity of the creature, which had survived not only bullet wounds to wing and leg, but also endured some 48 hours in a cold, sealed closet. It has not winged its way out of the woods just yet, but the vet responsible claimed at the weekend that the odds were now running in its favour. The ring-necked duck is not a showy species, being silent most of the time, while reserving a discreet, purr-like call for courtship. Females - like the one in the Florida fridge - have plain, drab brown plumage. But strong character lurks beneath the modesty: the duck routinely flaps across the American continent, and even, on occasion, the Atlantic, migration requiring the same fortitude that has now enabled death to be defied. Some hunters, of course, give their quarry no hope: snaps of Prince Phillip's party on Saturday seemed to show a fox being shot, and then clubbed, and then stamped on by a gamekeeper. But such is the spirit to live, that wildlife can grab at even a vanishing sliver of a chance to survive. By proving that spectacularly, the Goose Creek duck should give heart to us all.