I didn't want to alarm anyone, but THE DUCK has been missing for a few weeks...GASP! Although Mocha has a plethora of doggie toys, THE DUCK is by far her favorite. I've looked everywhere, even at a neighbor's house and under every bed in the retreat house...no DUCK.
Yesterday, I had a bad case of the dropsy's and yes, my legal files, cell phone, wallet, pen and other assorted things fell into the trash can next to my comfy chair where I was working. I said aloud to no one in particular, "This is not the place to keep such things," at which time I started fishing through the trash can for my stuff. Worried something might have fallen in I didn't see, like my trusty screwdriver I've had since I was four years old, I started moving the furniture for a better view of the floor and voila! I spotted a yellow beak...and attached to that yellow beak was a green head and attached to that green head was a grey, bulbous body. I gave that yellow beak a yank and out he popped from underneath my comfy chair.
Picture this...Mocha was asleep behind the comfy chair when I extracted THE DUCK, so as far as she was concerned, it was never missing. If I had asked her, "where's your duck?" like I normally do, she'd have trotted back there and produced it, but did I do that as part of my investigation? NO...all that Nancy Drew training down the drain!
Anyway...THE DUCK has been rooted from its hiding place and the air will once again be filled with the melodious sound of quacking.
Life is good.
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3 comments:
OK, don't tease me like that - give up the "rest of the story" about the screwdriver that you have had since you were four! (by the way- is screwdriver one or two words?
Hee...hee...when I was little, I went to work every day with my mother and father, who owned a tractor repair service in a small farming community in Texas. The Snap-On man came around regularly with his panel truck full of tools. He gifted me at the tender age of 4 with a small screwdriver that I have ALWAYS carried in my purse. It is a cherished possession and has gotten me out of more scrapes than you can imagine. If it ever disappeared, I don't know what I would do.
So...there's my screwdriver story...happy?
p.s. screwdriver is indeed one (1) word, meaning either, a device that turns screws or vodka and orange juice over ice...not sure which one I love more?!?
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