Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Sometimes ya gotta get quackin'


We mowed the grass at my mom's this weekend, a bittersweet chore. The Sister and I lost our mom just before Thanksgiving, and the pain is still so deep that I can't breathe at times. And I swear, our pastor and God have this deal going, because every one of the invitation hymns at church are Mama's favorites.

As The Husband unleashed his big zero-radius lawn mower on the grass, and The Sister weed-eated, The Kiddo and I picked up pine cones. I thought about all the times I'd played in that big front yard, all the stories I made up -- multi-character plays with me cast in all the roles. I thought about all the pets that had tramped across Mama's prized centipede grass. I thought about Quack and Amos.

Quack and Amos were a pair of ducklings that Mama and I bought at a feed supply store after she'd let me buy, on the same day, a book about a duck called Amos. We lived out in the country, so the ducklings wandered loose and grew up to be snow-white -- I was rather disappointed that they changed from cute little fluff-balls to sleek white ducks.

We had other pets, too, including a poodle called Puff. Puff nearly drove Mama to distraction by chasing the ducks. Mama worried that one day she wouldn't be around when Puff finally latched onto either Quack or Amos. I don't know that she hedged her bets by looking up duck soup recipes, but I do know that Puff got lots of scoldings.

And then one day, Mama and I heard this awful noise. Some critter was in terrible pain, and it sounded a lot like a muffled duck's quack.

"Quick!" Mama told me, "run around that end of the house, and I'll go this way! Puff's got a duck!"

So off I went, as ordered. I wound up on the wide green expanse of Mama's Centipede, with Mama coming around the corner -- and in between, in a classic run-down formation, were Puff and Quack.

Only ...

It was Quack that had Puff by the ear. Quack was two-stepping it along beside the trotting Puff, who was yelping with all her might. She couldn't run fast, because Quack had a firm hold on the tender poodle ear. The quacking noise? That was Quack, giving Puff the what-for.

Mama and I doubled-over with laughter. We stood and watched, and Mama did absolutely nothing to save Puff. Finally, Quack must have tired of the game, and Puff ran off.

She never chased another duck as long as she lived. In fact, Puff later on adopted some baby chicks.

So what's the takeaway for writers? Sometimes you have to face your worse fears. Waddle right up to that fierce poodle and grab on to any part you can get -- but be smart about it. Hang tight, even amid the yelping and squawking. And your problem may just flee for safety.

12 comments:

Piedmont Writer said...

Such a sweet story Cynthia, thanks so much for sharing.

out of the wordwork said...

We didn't have ducks but we had chickens, goats, rabbits and dogs. The chickens were by far the toughest animals to deal with - they still scare me!
Nelsa

Elizabeth Flora Ross said...

A great story! Thanks for sharing. Now I just have to figure out what my poodle is! ;)

Linda G. said...

LOL! Great story. Reminds me when I got a pet rabbit for Easter one year. Bunny-Hop-Hop (weird name, I know; give me a break--I was five) had the run of the yard during the day & my mom always worried our dog Sparky (a feisty fox terrier) might harm him.

B-H-H liked to steal dogfood out of Sparky's dish, which Sparky didn't like a bit. We thought it was curtains for B-H-H one day, when Sparky went at him, teeth bared. But B-H-H twirled at the last second, kicked backward with his massive bunny feet, and sent Sparky flying across the yard. Never worried about B-H-H again after that.

Lickety Splitter said...

Very cute story! I'm glad you can remember such vivid details of your childhood and that you share them with us. I'm hard pressed to remember yesterday ;)

Sometimes, I feel sad just thinking of the eventual loss of my mother. I know without a doubt, that I will feel lost in this world without her :(

I'm very sorry about your loss.

Patty Blount said...

My deepest condolences on the loss of your Mama, Cynthia. What a great story to share.

I agree completely! Facing fears is important if writers want to dig down to the truth in our stories.

For me, it's conquering a tremendous lack of confidence in my abilities. I've been reading a lot of books over the last week or so and I'm walking away, shaking my head, convinced I'm nowhere near this level of talent.

Thank you for trusting us with this glimpse into your heart.

Tawna Fenske said...

Hilarious story!

((hugs)) on the loss of your mom, but how wonderful you have such great memories to keep you going.

Tawna

Susan Kaye Quinn said...

What an awesome story! *Hugs* for you, missing your mom. You have some treasured memories to hold on to there. :)

Jamie D. said...

So funny - and a good lesson too, of course. Thanks for sharing. :-)

*Rolls up sleeves*

Sandy Shin said...

*huggles*

Thank you for sharing such a sweet and meaningful story with us. :)

Kathi Oram Peterson said...

Very touching and funny at the same time. I can just see Quack on Puff. I lost my mother five years ago and still it's hard. She'll always be part of me as I'm sure your mother will always be part of you.

Lola Sharp said...

Cynthia, I'm so sorry for your loss.
You are blessed to have such wonderful (and FUNNY) memories of her and your childhood.

Thank you for sharing.

Puff had it coming. Duck power!!

Love,
Lola