A woman brought a very limp duck to a veterinary surgeon. She laid her pet on the examination table. The vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest.
"I'm sorry; your duck has passed away," he said.
The distressed owner wailed, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. The duck is dead," replied the vet.
"How can you be so sure?" she protested. "You haven't done any testing. He might just be in a coma or something."
The vet rolled his eyes, left the room, and returned with a black Labrador retriever. As the owner watched in amazement, the dog stood on its hind legs, put its front paws on the table, and sniffed the duck thoroughly.
The dog then looked at the vet with sad eyes and shook its head. The vet patted the dog, took it out, and came back with a cat. The cat jumped onto the table, sniffed the bird from beak to tail and back again.
The cat sat back, 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% certifiably, a dead duck."
The vet then turned to his computer, typed a few keys, and printed a bill, handing it to the woman.
"$150!" she cried. "$150 just to tell me my duck is dead?"
The vet shrugged. "I'm sorry. If you had taken my word for it, the bill would have been twenty dollars. But with the Lab Report and the CAT scan, it all adds up."