Tragedy
I have very sad news to report to the blogosphere. Charlie the duck is dead.
Myself, I can hardly believe it. My parents had arrived barely three hours earlier, Charlie had been introduced, he had run up to them in a friendly fashion, and then, after dinner, disaster struck. Johnny Parker and his dog Doofus came round and while I was chatting to Johnny, the dog wreaked death upon the duck. By the time I raced out screaming to try to rescue him, it was too late, although I didn't realise it at the time - I thought the duck was merely in shock. But then my father went out to look and he came back looking solemn. I cried a rather embarrassing amount. I screamed at Johnny and I kicked Doofus, to whom I will never lavish any love or kindness ever again.
Charlie was by far the most affectionate of my feathered charges. He would eat out of my hand and follow me around the back yard. He would let me stroke him and every morning he nearly exploded of over-excitement when I would come out to feed him. He was conflicted in some ways - he would take a huge dislike to me whenever I would think it necessary to put him in a cage, and it would take some time for him to thaw - but compared to the diffidence of the chicken and rooster, he wore his heart on his sleeve, which endeared him to me and vice versa. I shed an unexpected number of tears at his untimely and violent death, and still am somewhat in shock. Somehow, to know that tomorrow morning he will not be there to greet me with an orgy of quacks makes my heart heavy. I miss him hugely.
Johnny has sworn to buy me two new ducks.
I have very sad news to report to the blogosphere. Charlie the duck is dead.
Myself, I can hardly believe it. My parents had arrived barely three hours earlier, Charlie had been introduced, he had run up to them in a friendly fashion, and then, after dinner, disaster struck. Johnny Parker and his dog Doofus came round and while I was chatting to Johnny, the dog wreaked death upon the duck. By the time I raced out screaming to try to rescue him, it was too late, although I didn't realise it at the time - I thought the duck was merely in shock. But then my father went out to look and he came back looking solemn. I cried a rather embarrassing amount. I screamed at Johnny and I kicked Doofus, to whom I will never lavish any love or kindness ever again.
Charlie was by far the most affectionate of my feathered charges. He would eat out of my hand and follow me around the back yard. He would let me stroke him and every morning he nearly exploded of over-excitement when I would come out to feed him. He was conflicted in some ways - he would take a huge dislike to me whenever I would think it necessary to put him in a cage, and it would take some time for him to thaw - but compared to the diffidence of the chicken and rooster, he wore his heart on his sleeve, which endeared him to me and vice versa. I shed an unexpected number of tears at his untimely and violent death, and still am somewhat in shock. Somehow, to know that tomorrow morning he will not be there to greet me with an orgy of quacks makes my heart heavy. I miss him hugely.
Johnny has sworn to buy me two new ducks.
Comments
We had a sickly chicken once that really became a pet. I knew she was going to die, but when she did I cried a lot too.