Waddles

We got Waddles on a whim at a farm fair. I thought it’d be a weekend novelty, but he became part of the family real fast. He followed the kids around like a puppy. If they ran, he ran. If they sat, he sat. He used to nap on the porch, tucked in like a little feathered ball. I remember him sneaking into the laundry room once and just refusing to leave. We found him on a pile of warm towels like, “This is my nest now.” He had this strange little honk-squeak he’d make when excited. The kids called it his “happy quack.” We tried to keep him outside, but he had opinions. Strong ones. Eventually we gave in and made him a cozy little indoor/outdoor setup. He lived a good long while for a duck. One morning, he didn’t come out when I shook the food bucket. He was still in his house, eyes closed. The kids cried. I cried. We buried him by the pond he never actually swam in. I still sometimes glance at the porch expecting to see him there. Waddles, you were a funny, weird, wonderful part of our lives.