I stared. Hid the stick a bore behind my back, gestured to Blackie to forget her groom. She dealt him a final dose, pills of cyanide coated with sugar and scotch taped his mouth shut so he couldn't spit it out.

She dusted her hands and trotted over, gleefully noting my branch. She burst into deafening peals of laughter but I whacked her and put my paw over her mouth.

There was a moment of silence for our Dearly Departed and we shimmered away into the afternoon sun.

I, however, carried a slight worrry. Black of course couldn't feel what I did, being of cruel heartsterner stuffness, but stil there was..guilt? *enter shoulder angels*

I shrugged and gave the stick to Blackie. I believed my whacking days were over...

`Duckary

(okay....)