My father had a pet duck. It was a result of one of those Easter sales, where people buy cute little ducks for their kids, then don't know what to do with them (the ducks, I mean).
A friend bought one for his child, and I said I'd take the duck and put it out on our pond. Then realized there were snapping turtles out there. So my parents took it to Florida with them and kept it.
They bought all kinds of fancy feeders and toys, and a wading pool, and even took it to the vet a couple of times. My father loved it; my mother, not so much. If you wore shoes with laces, it would always come around and untie your shoes. We had a lot of laughs about that duck. A year or so later it started laying eggs. My father named her Q
uack-Quack.