Years before Headley and the Rug, when the internet was still a new thing, I wrote Sandy Sue on my WebTV. I could never get my PC to work properly with its newfangled Windows 95 software (which I miss these days because Windows 8 is horrid,) so I wrote in emails which I then stored as text files.
Were we ever so young?
by Headley Hauser
Sandy Sue laid an egg every day! Very unusual for a duck. Even more
unusual was the etching and coloring on each egg. Sandy was the daily
mother of great masterpieces.
Tuesday it might be a Van Gogh self portrait,
Thursday the unicorn in captivity,
Sunday, the Pieta (a miracle!)
each day a different perfect representation of a fine work of art.
Like most artists, Sandy was frequently misunderstood. Her Warhol
was thought by one park employee to be debris left from someones lunch.
Her Barnett Newman was mistaken by many to be a simple Easter egg. Sandy showed no offence, no wounded pride, no artist's pique. She sat in her
little nest by her somewhat scummy duckpond content to create art for
the purest of motives: motherhood.
As time passed, she gained a celebrity among humans rivaled by only
the most accomplished ducks. The "Sandy Sue appreciation society (the
honorable Donald M Fowler, president)" numbered more people than the
entire province of Prince Edward Island. It was inevitable that her
many admirers, seeking a way of showing appreciation for her art, began
to consider her deplorable living conditions.
A magnificent new nest was constructed from the finest silk, with gold
filigree surrounded by tasteful aquatic bric a brac. The nest was
placed beside a radiant pool of fresh Evian water. Croutons from the
finest french restaurants were served (a la carte) by children of
impeccable breeding and education. Strains from Handel's water music
caressed her (imperceptible) duck ears.
For three days, Sandy nibbled contentedly and produced an
astoundingly detailed school of Athens as well as two Gauguins (rather risqué with so many children present).
A comprehensive search was initiated by D M Fowler himself. Sandy
Sue was found, chewing on a blade of grass by her tiny nest.
Risking nasty stains on the knees of his seersucker trousers, the honorable Mr. Fowler approached Sandy.
"We've done all we could imagine to make you comfortable and happy,
Sandy Sue. Why is it that you've left such a lovely environment for
this unsanitary little pond in such a tawdry city park?"
0val rims of green lined deep pools of thoughtful brown in Sandy's
eyes as she studied her benefactor.
"Quack," she replied.
Here’s a duck related video