Duckie, we hardly knew ye. Ye shall be missed.
You came into our lives just a few days ago. You were eviscerated in your first day of play as Trixie took a liking to you immediately. She flung you about as she romped through the house eager to show you to Gus. A short duck tug-o-war ensued and you spilled your white fluffy guts across the floor. Your squeak box was exposed and silenced in a instant.
Not one to give up easily, you, with your deflated body, endured more teeth and tugging and being tossed into the air to see if you could fly, than any ordinary duck could endure. Yet you did endure… like a champ. That is… until you were beheaded in a savage act by a playful canine. She didn’t mean to decapitate you. She was just playing. Playing sometimes leads to unfortunate accidents. But…. Now you’re two toys! Two toys from one!
I remember seeing you for the first time, hanging from a tiny plastic string from a hook in the Walmart pet department. For some reason you stood out more than the other stuffed weenies, plastic cheeseburgers, balls and phony bones. Your big bright eyes called out to me, “Take me home”. You were just six dollars and you looked so rugged. I was searching for someone just like you as I knew Trixie wanted to play… and play hard. You and Gus would have lived comfortably and quietly for years and years. You would never have to squeak at all unless Gus accidentally stepped on your belly. But Trixie wouldn’t allow that. She knew you had a squeak box and she wanted to hear you sing. You sang loudly as she played your squeak box for a short while that first day.
Be comforted in knowing that your short life here made Trixie very happy. You will be missed.
Oh, Trixie still plays with your head. I hope that’s OK.