Last fall, when our ducks finally grew up, flew off and never returned, my uncle casually mentioned that maybe they would come back in the spring to nest somewhere on our farm.

And just a few weeks ago, two of the three started to show up again. They'd fly in low together, doing circles around our fields and then move on. We'd see them land at the neighbor's farm. Or watch them fly over down by the stream.

We were all so excited to see them return. It was a big event to have a duck sighting.

By last week they were bravely hanging around in our yard early in the mornings when Dan would leave for work. We knew they were our ducks--wandering around among the cats and the dogs completely unintimidated by their presence. We loved hearing their telltale duck laughter letting us know they were here.

But sadly, this weekend we found one of the girls nestled in the grass alongside the road. She wasn't flying, was bleeding a bit from her beak and had trouble walking. We're not sure what happened to her.

So for now, she's back in her first home while we watch her closely to see if her body can fix itself. She's eating a little bit, drinking a little bit, but mostly resting.

We're hoping our bittersweet reunion with her will have a happy ending.