Yesterday, during my visit at the VA hospital in
Philadelphia, I met a new resident. He had a visitor himself, his wife. When I
poked my head in and asked if he wanted to meet Maggie he said “of course.”
After a few minutes of petting Maggie and hearing all about
her, I asked if he had any animals in his life. His wife answered for him. We
have a cat, his name is teeny and he weighs 20 lbs.
“Oh,” I said, “not quite so teeny.”
The gentleman smiled as he pulled out a small photo album. I
flipped through the pictures and pointed to a specific one.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s our pet duck.”
I must have had a surprised look on my face because he
answered with a “yes, we had a pet duck, raised it since it was four days old.”
As the man (and his wife) continued with their story I
noticed his features soften, and his voice become more lively.
“I kept the duck in my pocket to keep it warm,” he
continued. “This way it didn’t miss its mother. As soon as it was old enough,
it learned to follow me everywhere.
“What was its name?”
I asked
“Quack,” he answered.
I should have known!
When I asked where the duck slept, his wife chimed in; in a
baby’s crib on the 3rd floor. He would hop up the stairs at night,
we would put him in the crib and he would stay all night. He didn’t complain
once. I thought back to raising four children and the many sleepless nights.
I looked back at the picture. It was of a large duck. I
can’t imagine this duck following me around the house, but then again Maggie is
a 70lb dog and she follows me everywhere.
When I asked about “toilet training” the gentleman told me
he would lay a sheet of newspaper down in the corner of a room and “Quack”
learned that this was his spot to do his “business.”
Watching this man talk fondly about his pet duck taught me
that there are no boundaries for love.
I never did ask how they settled on a duck in the first
place….it didn’t really matter.
