A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgery. As she
laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and
listened to the bird's chest.
After a moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said: "I'm
so sorry, Cuddles has passed away."
The distressed owner wailed: "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am sure. The duck is dead," he replied.
How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean, you haven't done
any testing. He might just be in a coma."
The vet rolled his eyes and left the room, returning a few moments
later with a black labrador retriever. As the duck's owner looked on
in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on
the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then
looked at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.
The vet patted the dog and took it out and returned with a beautiful
cat. The cat jumped up on the table and also sniffed delicately at the
bird. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly
and strolled out of the room.
The vet looked at the woman and said: "I'm sorry, but as I said,
this is most definitely, 100 per cent certifiably, a dead duck."
Then the vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and
produced a bill, which he handed to the woman.
The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$350!" she cried.
"$350 just to tell me my duck is dead?"
The vet shrugged. "I'm sorry. If you'd taken my word for it, the
bill would have been $40, but what with the lab report and the cat
scan-"