Dead duck on the highway

Well, it's not exactly a highway. In fact, it's not a highway at all. It's the road that circles around the lake by my house. It's a two way road, lined with trees and well kept homes with lawns that tend to be neatly groomed.
The lake in question isn't really a lake. It's a retention pond, or something along those lines. It essentially serves to catch storm water. At any rate, there are these ducks who live in the lake/retention pond. They're not the most beautiful ducks. Some of them are down right ugly. They're also not the smartest animals. This is demonstrated time and time again when I see one standing in the middle of the road, staring down a car. It's usually the bigger, male ducks who do this. I guess it's the testosterone. They stand in the middle of the road, shaking their little tails, and hiss. Yes, the ducks hiss. It's not a really threatening hiss. I myself have been the target of a duck hiss and I wasn't worried that the duck was going to charge me or try and drag me into the lake/retention pond. Frankly, if I really wanted to be a jerk, I could just give the duck a swift kick in the ass and he would pretty much be screwed.
But I digress.
Along with the ugly, hissing ducks, live a group of mallards. Ah, the lovely mallards! They are truly the king of the duck, in my opinion. There are about four mallards who like to hang out with these two white ducks. I love the mallards and their white duck friends. On some nights, when the mallards are feeling frisky, they chase the white ducks along the shore and try to pin them down for a little "duck love". As I watch them chase each other, I quietly hum the theme to Bennie Hill, since it seems to be the most appropriate accompaniment.
Of course, all of this was before the accident.
One night as we were coming home, we passed the battered corpses of the two white ducks in the road. It was quite a gruesome scene. Duck feather everywhere. I felt angry that someone had done this. It's not as if this was the first time a duck had been hit. At least once a month, a duck is found smashed across the pavement. I normally have very little sympathy for the ducks who get hit, since it's usually the same ducks who have a penchant for standing in the road and hissing at cars. I figure, if I was stupid enough to stand in the middle of the road and hiss at cars, than I deserve to get hit. It just seems logical.
The difference this time was that it was two, non-road standing, non-hissing ducks. These were the watch me run away from my horny duck boyfriend while you hum the theme to Bennie Hill ducks. These were my favorite ducks and someone killed them!
The next night, I took a walk around the lake and noticed the mallards sitting quietly by the shore. There was no running along the shore that night. I almost felt like I could sense the sadness in their little eyes.
I wonder if they could sense mine.