Ode to Clucky

The sound of one thing in particular has always reminded me of home, our home, here in the 'shwa. Surely there are sounds I associate with my parents' home, like the sound of rain hitting the sunroom windows in a storm, or the yahoos across the street living with their parents into their late twenties, playing with their souped up honda civics or screaming obscenities at their parents. There are sounds I associate with work, like my heels as I run between courts, cells, and the crown's office. But one sound makes me smile, occasionally wince, and occasionally laugh and always reminds me of home, our home.

After a long day at work, in the middle of the night, it echoes through the hall, or in the bedroom. It often catches me by surprise, but has been a source of entertainment to be sure.

Now, it's suddenly gone silent. I'm of course thinking of Clucky, our rubber chicken dog toy.

Somehow, the squeaker has finally met its match after more than two years of use. To be fair, it's been two years of heavy use - two dogs chewing on it and openly playing tug of war over it, and both Dave and I stepping on it.

The worst interactions I've had with Clucky (so named because it rhymes with...) is the unexpected one, the one where you getting up in the middle of the night, sneak out of bed slowly to not wake up your partner, tiptoe across the floor, squinting to make sure you aren't stepping on any one of the four animals and, when you finally think you're in the clear, slinking quickly into the bathroom, only to step on laundry, that suddenly emits this loud SQUEEEEAAAAAAKKKKKKKK that pierces the silence. The wheeze that follows sounds like Clucky's laughing at you.

The sound itself is enough to cause heart attacks, if not for the person who stepped on Clucky, then for the partner who, until that moment, had been quietly sleeping in bed.

And so, a new, mute phase of Clucky's life has begun. The dogs seem less interested in Clucky then before, there seems to be less "hey that's mine" or "give it back" going on than there was before, no one is vying for sole chewing rights on Clucky. Instead of its vigorous squeak-wheeze-squeak, it's been straight wheezing when the dogs play with Clucky.

It looks like life is going to get a bit more peaceful in the house - for both the chicken, and us.