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So…something has been getting our birds, and today whatever it was got Mr. Peeps.

I hate this. Because Mr. Peeps was and still is such a vibrant and personable duck—we were his second owners. His first owners raised him from a duckling but couldn’t keep him in a development (since ducks are classified as farm animals, not pets), and one of the fathers contacted my Mom about finding him a new home. He never got farther than the driveway.

“Mom! It’s the Aflac duck!”

I remember that first day, letting him nibble on me to see how he’d react, setting up an area outside so he could meet the geese without them biting him (or him biting them, which was more likely), walking him because he had never been an outdoor duck….They tried to release him in a pond, which would have been the death of him because for the first month he was totally out of shape. He’d follow us into and around the house until we got him some duck friends to hang out with outside. But something would always happen, something would snatch them or steal them or eat them, but Mr. Peeps stayed. He’d chase us around, biting our ankles, go swimming with us, talk at us when we talked at him…bite us so hard it bruised…goodness me, he even bit the dog. Several dogs.

Today, something bit back, took enough of a chunk out of him that we could see his insides. But when we found him, he wasn’t dead—but when we found him, I knew he would be. I sat with him, crying my eyes out, until he died. I couldn’t even tell until he was stiff, he was so cold from blood loss.

I don’t want that to be his last memory. I want to always think of him as the duck that came running whenever we came outside, who swam around the pool with us, chased me around, walked around the lawn with us, ate food out of my hand, loved tomatoes with a passion….We’d call him sometimes and he’d quack, head and tail up, and then run around in a circle. And it was always MR. Peeps. I miss him terribly, and the yard is going to look horribly empty for the longest time without a duck running up for a hug.

In lieu of flowers, please go hug your pet. They aren’t with us nearly long enough. But he’s in a better place now, and I’ll see him again someday.

Love you, Mr. Peeps.

Done in Adobe Photoshop.

Description

So…something has been getting our birds, and today whatever it was got Mr. Peeps.

I hate this. Because Mr. Peeps was and still is such a vibrant and personable duck—we were his second owners. His first owners raised him from a duckling but couldn’t keep him in a development (since ducks are classified as farm animals, not pets), and one of the fathers contacted my Mom about finding him a new home. He never got farther than the driveway.

“Mom! It’s the Aflac duck!”

I remember that first day, letting him nibble on me to see how he’d react, setting up an area outside so he could meet the geese without them biting him (or him biting them, which was more likely), walking him because he had never been an outdoor duck….They tried to release him in a pond, which would have been the death of him because for the first month he was totally out of shape. He’d follow us into and around the house until we got him some duck friends to hang out with outside. But something would always happen, something would snatch them or steal them or eat them, but Mr. Peeps stayed. He’d chase us around, biting our ankles, go swimming with us, talk at us when we talked at him…bite us so hard it bruised…goodness me, he even bit the dog. Several dogs.

Today, something bit back, took enough of a chunk out of him that we could see his insides. But when we found him, he wasn’t dead—but when we found him, I knew he would be. I sat with him, crying my eyes out, until he died. I couldn’t even tell until he was stiff, he was so cold from blood loss.

I don’t want that to be his last memory. I want to always think of him as the duck that came running whenever we came outside, who swam around the pool with us, chased me around, walked around the lawn with us, ate food out of my hand, loved tomatoes with a passion….We’d call him sometimes and he’d quack, head and tail up, and then run around in a circle. And it was always MR. Peeps. I miss him terribly, and the yard is going to look horribly empty for the longest time without a duck running up for a hug.

In lieu of flowers, please go hug your pet. They aren’t with us nearly long enough. But he’s in a better place now, and I’ll see him again someday.

Love you, Mr. Peeps.

Done in Adobe Photoshop.