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Dead Duck

Ever since Pathetic Bob–my dead dog–connected  me through Bill the Cat, I’ve been trying to get back in touch. Bill has been wary of jumping on my desk. However, I devised a plan to get him up here. You see, I got a couple pieces of talapia and set them on a plate, on my desk. Bam! he was on that fish like a cat on fish. (Sorry, my simiies are running dry).

After a couple bites, Bill went into his bug-eyed fugue state. and I heard  Pathetic Bob’s voice: “Hey Em, Happy New Year.” He sounded

“Same to you Bob.  Say, I

want to ask you something….”

“Yeah, we’ll get back to that, but first I have surprise.”

“Oh Jeez,”I thought “what’s he up to.”

“OK Em, have you ever heard the expression ‘He’s a dead duck’?”

“Well, I guess I have.”

Well guess what…I got one.”

“One what?”

“A dead duck you idiot. His name is Keith. He’s from Canadia and was shot down someplace over Eastern Oregon. No worries though, he slipped out of his body on the way down and landed here…wherever ‘here’ is. Would you like to talk with him?”

“I don’t know Bob, I’ve never spoken to a duck, alive or dead. What would we talk about.”

Next, a voice like Irish Malt Whiskey traveled through Bill the Cat and into my head. “Hello Mr. Em. My friend Bob has told me a bit about you, and I’m intrigued.”

“I’m not that intriguing, really. I mostly sit around reading and writing about dead animals in my head. I used to be intriguing, but when Pathetic Bob died, I dried up. Now that he is sorta back I hope to move up the intriguing scale a couple of notches.”

“Well, I’m glad you are writing again. Perhaps I could relate several incidents in my life that you might want to put into your words.”

“Uhhh, Kieth is it?

“Yes sir.”

“Well Kieth, that sounds interesting. Why don’t I get back to you on that?”

“Wow, that would be great. I’ve never really talked to a human before. You’re not a hunter are you

“No, I’m not. Now Kieth, can I talk to Bob again?”

In a instant, the tone of the voice changed and Bob was back in my head. “So Em, whatta you thing? Kieth a pretty interesting mallard, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he’s great, but Bob I need to ask you a few things.”

“Sorry Em, but we get so much time to channel, and mine is about up.”

“Quik, one thing. I don’t want to have to channel you through Bill the Cat. He’s getting creeped out, and I don’t want screw with his head anymore.”

Bob thought for a moment. “Tell you what, you get a plant you could use?”

“Yeah.”

“So next time you want to talk, hold a plant leaf to your good ear, and we’ll see hoe it goes.’

“I guess so.” Bill the Cat put his eyes back in his head, grabbed the talapia, and sprinted off to his secret spot among the elephant ears next to the pool

 

 

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