Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953 (excerpt)
My little peeping buddy is no more. I am once again stationed to my nocturnal listening of the moving of materials around me without the small joy of companionship he provided. Giving him a round of lettuce and water before bed he was scurrying around his duck 'condo' when I went to bed, but somehow succumbed to the darkness.
Since he arrived, he has been pretty quiet until about 2 am and like most infants, then wakes up and wants to play. He would peep-peep-peep and tap his beak against the glass rat-tat-tat style until I got up, brought him into my blanket (I am short on my laundry this week, not being super fond of the laundry mat experience) and then would go straight to the bottom where he would snuggle/peck at my feet the rest of the night. This arrangement, although providing me with a 'bedmate' of sorts, has not been really that perfect for my daytime workplace productivity afterwards I must say. I thought the last would be no different, but when I woke at 7am instead of 2am, to a much too quiet cage, I was concerned, one that was well founded. I am not sure why, as he was eating away and bouncy, but he did not make it the night. I was so sad.... that this little downy drop of cheer for me was gone, another petal plucked away from life it seemed and even though it was a little tiny duckling, it was life... something... life around me. Something that is really in need and which no one seems to care enough to provide anymore. Perhaps he was just too fragile for my care, as much as I tried. Rest well my tiny friend... I enjoyed you.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953 (excerpt)
My little peeping buddy is no more. I am once again stationed to my nocturnal listening of the moving of materials around me without the small joy of companionship he provided. Giving him a round of lettuce and water before bed he was scurrying around his duck 'condo' when I went to bed, but somehow succumbed to the darkness.
Since he arrived, he has been pretty quiet until about 2 am and like most infants, then wakes up and wants to play. He would peep-peep-peep and tap his beak against the glass rat-tat-tat style until I got up, brought him into my blanket (I am short on my laundry this week, not being super fond of the laundry mat experience) and then would go straight to the bottom where he would snuggle/peck at my feet the rest of the night. This arrangement, although providing me with a 'bedmate' of sorts, has not been really that perfect for my daytime workplace productivity afterwards I must say. I thought the last would be no different, but when I woke at 7am instead of 2am, to a much too quiet cage, I was concerned, one that was well founded. I am not sure why, as he was eating away and bouncy, but he did not make it the night. I was so sad.... that this little downy drop of cheer for me was gone, another petal plucked away from life it seemed and even though it was a little tiny duckling, it was life... something... life around me. Something that is really in need and which no one seems to care enough to provide anymore. Perhaps he was just too fragile for my care, as much as I tried. Rest well my tiny friend... I enjoyed you.
