Critter Tails

The following is a true story taken from "Some Angels Have Tails," a series of pet stories by Calabasas resident Dolly Wiseman.

Kook and Raquel

Kook was an energetic red dachshund who came into my life when I was a 23-year-old newlywed and stayed with me through 11 years and the birth of three children.

After my first son was born, I took my 8-year-old stepdaughter, Suzanne, to visit the darling ducks at a local hotel that boasted gardens and a beautiful pond. As we stood watching the ducks in the water a tiny, chirping duckling ran up to my feet. I picked it up for Suzanne to see and to pet.

"Oh, can I have it?" she asked excitedly, as we looked in wonder at the precious little thing.

"Well, I don't know . . ." I said, wanting it as much as she did. Before I had married her father, I had had a duck as a pet and had to give her up when I left home to start my new married life living in an apartment.

Almost without thinking I slipped the duckling into my coat pocket where it immediately got quiet. Just as we started to walk toward my car, the guilt hit me; I headed with Suzanne to the hotel's business office.

"I wonder if we might have a duck from the pond . . ." I began, my hand over the sleeping duckling in my pocket.

The woman behind the desk looked comp l e t e l y caught offguard. "We, uh, I don't think, ah . . ." she stammered.

I pulled the duck out of my pocket and handed it to her, feeling relief at being able to confess my near thievery. She looked at Suzanne and then at me and said, "Oh, just take it! We have far too many. Just keep it!"

She smiled as though the whole incident made her happy and I hugged her in thanks.

Raquel came to live at our hillside home and swam in baby Darren's plastic pool. She matured from a fuzzy beige duckling into a shiny brown and white mallard.

She stayed busy by scooping bills full of mud into her water dish and then she would patrol the yard for snails, a real delicacy. She loved Kook and followed him everywhere, marching in step behind him. Raquel was a good companion for Kook. He had gone into a psychological paralysis at the birth of our new baby, and Raquel gave him purpose and exercise. With his new charge, he was now too busy to be jealous. They both would send up an ear-splitting commotion when the mailman would drive up

to our mailbox. to our mailbox. They would run to the gate barking and quacking until he deposited the mail and drove away.

O n e morning I had just put Darren down for his morning nap when an urgent quacking began, then barking and even louder quacking. I ran to the backyard and to the side of the house to investigate the racket.

There was a uniformed man near the gas and electric meters, frozen in fear as my two guardians kept him from nearing the meters.

"I am so sorry!" I said sheepishly as I tried to quiet them. Kook kept barking from my arms and Raquel had her wings open and squawked even more exuberantly.

"Please, go ahead and read the meter, I'll try to contain them," I urged as he backed toward the fence that joined the front wall of the house. I thought it was strange that he wouldn't say anything to me and kept offering me his profile only, with his head slightly down. Suddenly, he hiked the fence and ran down the street.

I was embarrassed and perplexed, so I looked for an electric bill and called the number at the bottom.

"Hello, I'd like to report that my dog and duck frightened one of your men away. I'm really sorry . . ." I began.

"Excuse me, what is your address?" a woman's voice asked efficiently. When I told her she was silent for a moment and then asked, "And what did his uniform look like?"

"Chocolate brown, of course," I volunteered, remembering his appearance: how his red hair was so neatly combed and he had several pencils in his pocket protector.

"Our men wear green. I'd call the police if I were you," she said.

"What did he look like?" the policeman asked as I told him the story over the phone. "We've been looking for him for weeks! His 'M.O.' is to climb into backyards and enter homes through unlocked sliding doors. He takes whatever he can and escapes before anyone knows he's been there."

Within 10 minutes I heard helicopters overhead as they circled my neighborhood. I thanked my two little angels as I helped Raquel look for snails, gave Kook a doggie cookie and proceeded to lock my windows and doors.

Dolly Wiseman's first book, "Everybody Eats Tortillas," will be released in July by iUniverse.Her website is www.KidsAreCooks.com.