Once again, feeble apologies for goin’ rogue the past week or so. I’m still mired, but at least I’ve stopped fighting it, and am now allowing the tar pit to peacefully suck me down into its bone-preserving depths. Unfortunately, I’ve still got to turn this mess in tomorrow — at the latest — whatever its condition, so I should be back in the afternoon, with saberteeth and mammoth tusks for everyone.
In the meantime, I’m passing along a pre-Post-Friday Beast Blogging beast post, borrowed from my friend Laura’s late lamented blog. Enjoy…
“It’s like looking into the eye of a duck…” - Black Books
So the other morning my mom is like “there’s a duck in the yard.” I go, “What? Why?” And she goes, “It’s a mallard.” (Thanks for clearing that up.) Neighbors were consulted, rescue organizations were contacted, google searches for duck feed were initiated, and an area at the Fort for stray waterfowl was discovered. I even called a friend going, “Ducks in suburbia, what the hizzle?” and she basically said she saw one once and in mid-plotz it flew away and scared the crap out of her. I tried to ask the duck if it was okay and it made grumbly half-quacky noises and started to march around in a little circle. I didn’t know what that meant and my mom and a neighbor had left it water and anchovies so I left. That evening, I drive up and Pinky the Cat is laying down on the sidewalk looking at the duck.
Pinky the Cat: So what’s this shit?
Sam the Cat (from porch): Hi!! There’s a duck in the - I don’t get it - should there be a duck here? Anyway I’ll be over here.
Me: Mom, Pinky’s watching the duck.
Pinky the Cat: That is crazy. It’s like a big bird.
Me: Pinky come here. Let’s go inside. Kitty!
Mom (coming out of house and stepping over Sam): Where’s the duck? Why’d it move?
Duck: Just moving a bit away from this cat. Don’t mind me.
Pinky the Cat: It’s like a big… bird thing.
Mom: Pinky! Leave the duck alone.
Me: Come on, Pinky. Inside.
Sam the Cat: Yeah. Inside. I am so hungry.
Pinky the Cat: I am going to eat this huge bird thing.
Me: Pinky! No. Get away from Hedwig!
Pinky the Cat: The bird is mine! Banzai!
Duck: Oh shit Run away! Run away!
Me: Pinky no!
Mom: Catch her!
Pinky the Cat: This is going to be the best thing I’ve ever eaten!
Teddy the Cat (running toward duck from two doors down): DOGPILE ON THE DUCK!
Mom: What’s Teddy doing here?
Me: Teddy! No!
Duck: I will fly away! I really mean it this time!
Sam the Cat (from porch): Are we not going inside to eat?
Pinky the Cat: Two words: foie gras!
Teddy the Cat: This is awesome! Serpentine!
Me: Teddy, no! Go home, Teddy!
Teddy the Cat: (grumble, grumble, stomp, stomp, stomp)
Duck (flying into middle of street): My feet feel funny!
Sam the Cat: I’m starting to taste metal!
Pinky the Cat: This is like a million times bigger than a hummingbird. Oh sweet mystery of life, at last I’ve found you! Hey! Let go of my neck skin!
Me: Stop struggling. We’re going inside.
Duck: Whew, grass. AAaahhh better.
Mom (to Duck): Eat the pellets. You’re fine.
Pinky the Cat: Let. Go. Of. My…. HEY! I can’t get the big bird from inside the house, you tool.
Sam the Cat: (takes Xanax)
Posted by scott on Thursday, May 21st, 2009 at 9:45 am