The Life Aquatic with Boots McDuck - Feb 2021

 "Duck love is recognizable in any language."

    ~Edmond Manning

A therapy duck

In late January our neighbour's grandkids found a tiny mallard duckling on the highway, with no sign of its family around. They are kind-hearted folk so brought the fuzzy scrap of life home with them and set her up in their spare bedroom. Of an evening "Boots" the duckling would sit on my neighbour's shoulder and preen him enthusiastically. Hearts were melted and bonds were formed

Tiny Boots the first day I met her

I met Boots and instantly fell in love, and tried to spend at least a couple of hours every day with her. The feeling was mutual, and my heart officially melted when she squeezed herself under the spare bedroom door to chase me down the hallway. Ducklings are normally always with their family and we became her family - and parting was such sweet panic.

The timing of Boots' arrival was such that I happened to have at least a couple of hours each day to spend with her - I was in-between the lumpectomy and the ill-fated re-excision, and my main job at that time was to rest, rest, and then rest some more. When Boots was very small she needed a lot of sleep, and so the two of us spent many happy hours snoozing together in the caravan - she would snuggle into my shoulder and gently peep away. There really is nothing so pure as the love of a duckling.

Nap time!

She had imprinted upon us humans and wanted nothing more than to spend time together. Other humans came to visit with her and she loved us all equally and entirely. She showered us with love, and often coated us with poop. I had a few days away from her while in hospital, then we resumed our routine, adding a new activity to each day. She couldn't swim as she wasn't waterproofed (perhaps due to the lack of a ducky mother?) but she loved splashing about in a bowl of water, dabbling for seeds and other tasty treats.

Hair: Boots' happy place

As she got older I got stronger, and our naps were fewer and further between. We went for walks to the pond at the bottom of the garden - although it was sadly more of a puddle in the dry weather, but she did have a happy afternoon pugging about in the mud and terrifying the local mozzy population. Walking along with Boots running beside me quickly became my most favourite mode of transport, and hearing the thump-thump-thump-thump-thump as she followed me through the cottage was hilarious and heart-warming.

My constant companion

My days were spent resting - sitting with her, walking with her, watching her snooze and stretch in the crook of my arm, and worrying about her. One of our last days together was a tonic - I was upset and emotional from saying goodbye to the piece of land we had just sold, and so the three of us spent the whole afternoon lying on a blanket by the pond. Boots bug-hunted sporadically, but spent most of her time snuggled up to one of us - or our shoes! - and she soothed my sore heart.

A few days later her feathers soaked up more of my tears as I realised we were having our "lasts" together - our last morning peck about, our last snooze, our last trip to the pond - as I had found a wonderful new home for her where she could be with other ducks and have the 24/7 company she needed. I had thought she would grow out of the strong dependence upon us but then I learned that ducks need to be with a friend all the time. I felt terrible every time I heard her panicked peeps when I left her in her hutch alone, and I'd stand outside the caravan after putting her to bed at night and wait for the heartbreaking cries to quiet down.

It wasn't right to make her spend so much time alone, and as I was slowly rejoining the human world again I would have even less time for her. Plus Lulu was getting jealous and was off her food, which for Lulu is a Very Big Deal Indeed.

Boots really not sure about the new flatmate

The amazing folks at the Wellington Bird Rehabilitation Trust took her in and gave us the incredible news that she wasn't a mallard, but is in fact a Grey Teal! And even more incredibly, they had another Grey Teal there, and they would be rehomed together! My neighbour drove us there and Boots was so chill - she would have made a great road trip buddy as the car didn't phase her at all. It was so hard to see her freak out over being put in a cage with the other duck but I knew it was the best thing in the long run. I hated leaving her and cried and fretted all evening but the next day heard that they had become friends, and that made all the tears worthwhile.

A sloshy boob

Continuing the watery theme is my left boob, which is still sloshing and blooping away. It's become a constant in my life now, and I found the title of this blog when I tried to describe how it makes me feel and the word that came to mind was "aquatic". It's different to a running water sound which might make me want to pee a lot, it's more like an accompaniment to my movements - an ever-present aquatic punctuation when I turn and bend and sit and reach. I think I'll miss it when it's gone.

A river of tears

And yet more water, this time in the form of tears. Last week I cried a lot on Sunday after saying goodby to our land; I had the day off crying on Monday; Tuesday I sobbed as I prepared myself to say goodbye to Boots; Wednesday I blubbed as we took her to her new home; and then on Thursday I learned that all the tissue taken in the re-excision had DCIS cells and that I need to have a mastectomy. Gutted. "I want the duck back!" was the third thing I said after ending the call with the surgeon. But this is something I have to come to terms with in my own way - even the limitless love of a duckling has no power here.

I haven't cried like that in years - I was nearly inconsolable, which is so hard on my partner. I'll write more about this in the next episode, after we have met with the surgeons, but needless to say there have been many more tears, many hard conversations, and a slow grind towards acceptance. Acceptance through gritted teeth, but every day gets a little easier. The cancer hasn't spread, so that's the main thing to focus on. But still, it won't be easy.

This picture brings me so much joy

So this journey just got a whole lot bumpier, and sometimes I feel I need an army of ducklings to get me through it. But instead I have incredible humans reaching out, offering support, commiserating, sending gifts, and making me feel buoyed on a river of love. Thank you. I'm forever grateful to Boots for giving purpose to all the resting and for loving me unconditionally, and I hope she lives a long and happy life. Selfishly I hope a small part of her remembers me, although it's probably best she forgets her half-human life. And as much as I loved living with a duck I need to remember that the people around me love me deeply too, and desperately want me to get better. I'm incredibly lucky, and I REALLY want to rhyme that with "ducky" but I'll refrain :)

Thank you for reading along, and if you'd like to support the tireless (and expensive!) work of the Wellington Bird Rehabilitation Trust, please check out their website and consider making a donation or buying plants. They are doing great work, and will be very busy with injured birds when duck-shooting season starts in May :(