Tales of Duckwood, A sad story, a VERRY sad tale... Options

[gold_tutor]

Panner, the tenderfoot rushed up the stairs to "Doc's Office" over in Luray, Colorado...you know the place......the wooden stairs walk-up over Kitty's Tav--like in tv's Gunsmoke...

Craddled in a rusty goldpan, was a very limp, muddy duck. Partially covered by a red plaid huntin' cap, that was all Panner could think to quickly grab to keep Digger warm as she fled camp on her mission of mercy.

Tenderfoot lay her pet on the table, imploring ole Doc, "DO SOMETHING!"

She watched intently as Doc pulled out his stethoscope and listened to Digger's feathered chest. After a moment or two, Doc shook his head sadly and said, "I'm so sorry, Panner. Duckwood's flown the coop."

Distressed, Panner wailed, "are you sure???? "

"Yes, I am sure. Digger's dead," he replied. "Looks like he got somethun' stuck in his crop...want me to check, 'case it's a gold nugget??"

"How can you be so sure," Panner protested. "I mean, pleeeeease, Doc! You haven't done any testing on him or nuthin!! He might just be in a coma or ..." her voice trailed off, too choked up to speak.

Doc rolled his eyes, turned around and disappeared behind the curtain separating his modest bedroom from the "exam room." He returned a few moments later with a black labrador retriever at his side.

Panner watched dog in amazement as Doc took at seat at his oak desk. That fully grown but gentle, soft-mouthed retriever stood on his hind legs, putting his front paws on the wooden exam table where Duckwood lay, still in his rusty goldpan nest.

He sniffed Digger, the spoonbill, from crested head to muddy tailfeathers, looked at Doc with big ole sad eyes, and shook his head. Doc patted the dog, and nodded. Doc stood up and the dog followed him back behind the curtain.

Returning to the lantern-lit exam room where Panner and Duckwood were waiting, Doc heard a gentle scratching at the door. Doc moseyed over, opened it a crack, and in strode a stately, sleek, sassy cat, with the bluest eyes Panner had ever seen. Panner feared for her beloved Digger stretched out in the goldpan.

Doc motioned for the chocolate-point Siamese to hop up on the table. She obeyed the cue, quietly landing on the table. She also sniffed Duckwood, deliberately and delicately, but not ruffling a single feather. Siamese sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed plaintively, then hopped down and strolled behind the curtain to join dog in Doc's private quarters.

Doc gently looked at Panner and said, "I'm sorry, Missy, but as I said before, Duckwood is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck.

Doc sat down, heavy-hearted at his desk, scribbled a few words on a pad of paper, then tore off the top sheet and handed it to Panner. Still in shock, she limply took the bill and read it.

"$150," Panner cried aloud. "$150 just to tell me my Digger is dead?!!"

Doc shrugged. "I'm sorry. If you'd taken my word for it, the bill would have been only $20, but with the lab report and the cat scan ...."
copyright 2004, Megan Rose, AUthor, Pen Press Publishing, Durkee OR 97904 --26

Attached thumbnail(s)

 

[Denise]

Thanks Megan..
You had me going for a minute there..... :P
Rest in Peace Digger..... :(

:)

[gold_tutor]

........How can I put this delicately....
I keep wondering if Digger choked on a gold nugget...

Darned old story tellers!!! They leave out the 'portant stuff!!!

[CP]

:D :D Very cute story! :D :P