An odd duck

Ink and watercolour on paper, 8×10

I like this guy. I like how casually he has his hands in his pockets, and I like that he seems completely comfortable with the caption. This is one of those drawings that I finished and knew I would keep. That happens sometimes.

I asked Doug to bring this home one day to my parents’ place to take a photograph of it, because I foolishly framed this drawing prior to scanning it, and was going to be there for a while. My parents hung it on the wall. 

“She didn’t notice.”

“Hm? Hello. Didn’t notice what?”

“I told you she wouldn’t notice.”

“Dad, I just walked in the door. What haven’t I noticed?”


Then my father cackled. It is so endearing when he is this kind of amused.

Unfortunately, I had no intention of giving Boris away to anyone, and my parents eventually grew attached, because I took a lo-o-o-o-ong time to finally take a picture of this drawing. I provided them with Fenwick the elephant, who has now grown on both of them. But for weeks they spoke of Boris often, as an old friend.

“I miss Boris.”

“Me too.”


An odd duck