I remembered this essay I wrote a few years ago and thought I would share it. Enjoy.
They say that a dog is a man's best friend, and when mine unexpectedly left me for the great unknowns of the after-life, I was left without one. Loneliness enveloped my heart. I found myself looking for a new friend to claim that aching spot. I researched long and hard, and after my living situation turned down my hopes of raising a hedgehog, I stumbled upon something I had not imagined. If you were to ask me how I arrived at the conclusion that a duck, of all creatures would do the trick, I could not tell you, but sometimes it's the unexpected that brings happiness to a broken heart.
Piper was a Peking duckling with fluffy yellow down, a pink bill, and feet webbed in between the toes with warm, paper-thin skin. He was a mostly docile little thing with a flair for the dramatic. It was either that or he just hated being alone. I had read on the internet that ducks were social creatures that are able to bond with humans, as long as contact with others of their kind was limited. Based upon that knowledge I tried my best to keep him away from the other ducklings I had acquired at the same time. Piper slept in a big box at the foot of my bed, and when I say he slept, I mean it in the loosest way possible. I would make sure his box was clean and ready for the night and then would gently set him down and walk away, my heart breaking as his shrill cries followed me down the hall. Piper was what you could call a social butterfly. If he wasn't cuddled up under someones neck, or stuffed head first in the crook of someones arm, he would squeak and try to put himself in one of those two spots. If I was unable to walk and balance his ever growing body on my arm, he was content to sleep in my purse while I shopped or did my chores. Piper and I were virtually inseparable. We both wanted it that way.
It was soon after Piper arrived that I got my first job. This posed problems for quality time spent with my little duckling and my dreams of taking him for walks and training him to wear a diaper. I didn't give up though and soon designed a small stretchy diaper made out an old sock for him to wear. It worked for short periods of time where I could run about the house with him following close behind, his syndactilous feet slapping the ground like a fish out of water, his undersized wings flapping, and his 'wait for me' screams bringing the dogs from every corner of the house to see what all the raucous was about. It was during this period of waiting for him to get big enough for an official, professionally made diaper that I discovered something. While ducklings are cute, they will not hesitate to give you a run for your sanity. I would allow the fuzzy little bird to roam my bedroom freely, as long as he stayed mostly on the towel I spread out for him, but having a brain the size of peanut, Piper eliminated wherever he pleased. It became a regular thing for me to be consistently wiping up liquid excrement and constantly doing laundry, in response to the fact that Piper preferred to spend the majority of his time in my lap, or at least touching me in some formor fashion. Sometimes, when given free reign of the bedroom, he would bolt across the room with a waddling dash and send his food dish careening in the opposite direction, leaving me to fetch a vacuum, in hopes of removing every last pellet from from my floor.
While Piper may have driven me crazy sometimes, just like any other pet would, we had really memorable times as well, like taking him to the grocery store and hoping he would stay quiet so we didn't get into trouble, lying on the couch and watching a movie with him snuggled up nice and close to my face, and having him sample my fingers and me kissing his bill. Bath time was always the favorite. I would fill up the tub with lukewarm water and watch as he paddled his little feet. He made me laugh when he would swiftly propel himself under the water like a frog, splashing water all over me and the floor, zooming around and around, with his eyes open, until he ran out of air and resurfaced.
Piper grew and soon shed his soft down for grown up feathers, white as pearls, and almost as shiny. His neb and totipalmate feet matured into a lovely shade of orange. We were happy, but life soon got busy and when Piper was being left alone for the majority of the day, my heart began to hurt for his misfortune. I then did what I thought was best for my little billed darling. I reunited him with his long lost duckling friends, in the land of the grass and wind. Piper was happy with the companionship of his kind. When Piper was happy, so was I. A few weeks later, when I returned home from work, I was met with news that cut my soul out, and chopped it into a million pieces. Piper was gone. Like my previous animal companion, Piper had unwillingly abandoned me for the unknown world of death. A fox had stole in during the night and ripped my love away from me.
My heart still aches for that flightless little bird. Every so often I peruse the pictures that are left from our life together. I can still feel his warm mouth nibbling at my eyelashes, and his fleecy down when I would bury my face in his warmth. I can still see his little black eyes staring at me like he understood my feelings. I can still hear his breath, his squeals, and the quack he gained as he grew. I still laugh at the memories of the times we would play dress up, and he would end up wearing a dress. They say a dog is a man's best friend, but I am not so sure; because sometimes, it's the unexpectedthat brings happiness to a broken heart.
