GO BACK

or for the very beginning

go to the Rabbit Hole

The Duck.

He pooped.

Walking my girlfriend to the top of Letourneau Hall stairs, for "goodnight"s on Easter, brings forth a gift I do not want.

"I've got something for you, I'll be back."

She slips quickly into the girl's dorm, and I'm pretty sure she'll be returning with a representation of Jesus-from-the-tomb... in chocolate form.

Reappearing, her hands are cupped as if preventing the resurrected chocolate from escape.

My hands extend, then fill up with duck. "peep peep peep peep peep..." poop. Well, now there was an *essence* of chocolate in my grasp.

Of course i start laughing. This tiny creature who I'm sure has some kind of built-in mechanism preventing him from getting bigger than a breadbox, was not my focus. Instead, the divine creature who has been luring all my affections (at arm's length) this semester, is beaming with delight. So, I will not taint the moment by mentioning the success of teenage males raising pets while living in a college dorm.

"Happy Easter."

There was no treat for me as she retreats back to her dorm. As I head back towards mine, I'm wondering if my poop-hand will leave much residue on doorknobs.

Poop.
Poop duck.
Named after Popeye's Poopdeck Pappy, Poop *duck* pappy now makes me a father.

Luckily, Roomate Randy Cross understands sacrifices made in the name (well... the *hopes*) of love. So Poop Duck, PDP, finds a pond in our dorm-room sink. Eventually, he will find companions at the school pond with 5 others, five which i wonder have they accumulated from other thoughtful ladies of TFC gifting.

For now, within a few weeks, Semester class Finals will be underway, and then we jump into our escape pods, shaking the dust off our feet, hoping to experience the most secular of summers.

I reach Florida, and PDP finds another glad welcome from my mom, us flocking together in her mobile home next to a pond. PDP isn't relegated to outer darkness. We put plenty of newspaper on the carpet, which Poop Duck surely knows how to back off, and onto, the only spot *not* covered by paper. But still, a good time is had by all (ducks); especially when birds come up to the screen door expecting morsels from mom, instead seeing a curious beast twice their size.

My Summer job calls. Camp Westminster in Covington, GA is making me a counselor for 2 weeks. I'm looking forward to it because many other TFC'rs will be there. And they know *I'll* be there. I just stay quiet about showing up with a duck.

But PDP is a hit. He does interesting things when you interact, and I brought him to the stage to entertain the camp kiddies. Holding him with a firm grip is always the opener as I place him on a table to say "hello" and he proceeds to stretch out his now large wings and flap enthusiastically bringing applause.

Food is always a good teaching tool as I sit with my feet grounded and knees pulled up. When Poop knows there's a treat he will run under my legs then around my back over and over, eager to nibble on whatever is in my hand til he's just nibbling on my hand.

The showstopper is one of a misguided hygiene moment as i let PDP eat out of my mouth. Of course, kids say 'Ewww' while at the same time loving it.

When Fall semester, school year 81-82, starts at Toccoa Falls, Poop and his five watery friends are most at home on the school pond. I can't recall what type animal their kibble is made for, but i load up a box full. PDP always starts the race towards me as I close in on the pond while making 'p-d-peep' sounds.

It will be over 2 years that I can take care of him. While I'm at school, he continues to work for his keep. He joins my Society in a yearbook photo op as we congregate in front of a Sessna at the municpal airport. The theme is depravity, and PDP is the only innocent, standing in the very front of the group with me, in camouflage, feigning A-Hunting we will go, but innocuous, moment.

My final year, 82-83, graduating students generally have husband/wife and family portraits submitted for yearbook. PDP is of course my beloved. I bring him into the gym and set him on the grand piano on stage where he is barely restless and the photographer easily snaps us up. I guess the school administration didn't know what to do with the two of us, so our picture does not get an alphabetical placement but stuck in the bottom corner after pictures of Mr. Zimmerman and Miss Zenith.

The summer of '83 should be when I leave Poop with his friends as I forever leave the college. I couldn't. I take him with me to Athens and leave him where I can visit on a nearby farm with other ducks. My return brings sadness. The owner says a wild animal broke into their cage.

I miss you, my Peep.