Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Tail of the Christmas Duck

Bet you thought this might be a recipe.  Nope.

When our dog Indy was a pup, he has a toy rooster that would make that annoying rooster noise whenever anyone went near it.  He loved that toy, and it lasted for years, until he finally tore it up one day after a seam split.

Circe, our three year old "puppy" (Indy is nearly 10 years her senior) had no such toy, but as Christmas approached, I grew nostalgic for dog toys of old.  I searched in vain for an identical rooster, but, alas, no rooster was to be found.  Instead, I found this charming AKC approved duck.  I thought that this might be fun for Circe, and perhaps even for us all, as Circe is a sweet, good-natured dog who loves to play.  But Circe was terrified.

Now, the duck was not a formidable thing at all, and really did not resemble an actual duck in any way.  For one thing, it was smaller.  It had artificial fur, rather like that of a teddy bear, fur and fabric wings, and yellow bill.  It sported feet of bright orange felt.  When squeezed in just the right way, in the general vicinity of its pelvis (if it had one), it would faintly rasp out a sound that was supposed to be a "quack" or something.   Yet, the very mention of the duck would send Circe cringing to a corner, or under a table, far from the offending imitation anseriform.  (I'd say she would tuck her tail, but as she is an Australian shepherd, she has none to tuck.)  She even sought refuge with T, who, bless him, is the one person in the house of whom she is a bit wary (she is a wise dog).  When T was of no use, she climbed behind him--all 45 pounds of her--up onto the the back of his recliner to escape the vicious newcomer.

Later that day, things changed.  Circe suddenly loved the duck.  It became her puppy.  She carried it everywhere, hid it from us, and licked it constantly.  The duck became a sopping mess of dog drool.  Parental love lasted about three days.

Then, we discovered two small felt feet on the floor.  The feet had been chewed neatly off and left together.  The wings were next, first the right, later the left.  Stuffing was everywhere.  The duck's "vocal" apparatus, a series of plastic bits and gauze that resembled trachea tubes, was released from its fluffy bondage.  Don took one of the tubes and blew through it (it sounds more authentic when not muffled in the body of the duck), and we now have a perfectly usable dog calling device.

And Circe always responds.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Prosaic Post-New Year Post


I followed through on a resolution.  Once.

Still, why not try?  And why not try a few?

1. Lose weight and excersize, eat better, etc. (not just prosaic, but trite).
2. Learn to spell excersixe (it just gets worse each try and spell check refuses to give me any hints).
3. Read more (finish books I have started and put aside that are now under a pile of other books that I am actually reading).
4. Keep up with chores.

Pretty much.  Sorry to bother you all with a post.

Oh, and Happy New Year!  ;)