Sometimes it’s handy to have a pond. For instance, say you want to give a Viking Funeral to a stuffed pelican with a history. A pond is very handy.

Howard first obtained the Pelican sometime in the early 80s. As he said to me “It was in the back yard of one of my parents’ neighbors. Incredibly, they were going to throw it out! I asked, and they gave it to me”. Eventually, it migrated to Chicago with Howard and took up residence in the apartment on Racine Avenue he shared with Tim.

People either loved or hated the Pelican. There was a certain beauty and repulsiveness to it at the same time. It was a bit creaky, dusty, and maybe just a little creepy to some. And, always the question – why would someone stuff a Pelican to begin with?

The Pelican was in it’s glory days. Sitting on the fridge, watching over the apartment and all of the goings on. It drew many comments (not all flattering), and also had the chance to see, and be seen with Bill Murray, Del Close, Graham Chapman, Eric Idle, Joel Murray, Bob Odenkirk and Dave Pasquesi, among others.

In 1994, Howard finally moved out of the Racine Avenue apartment to marry Laurie. The Pelican remained behind with Tim. It was still perched on the refrigerator, gathering dust, greeting all who entered, and surveying it’s domain. A few more years passed, Tim (and his then girlfriend, now wife, Renee) moved on and the Pelican went with them to a new home. Eventually, they bought their own house and the Pelican moved with them yet again. No longer prominently displayed, it also wasn’t hauled off to the junk yard. It was almost like a ring of power, just quietly biding it’s time, waiting for the right opportunity.

Time passed. Howard and Laurie had a son, Morgan.

More time passed. Morgan graduated from college, and moved to the DC area to seek fame and fortune. Cath and I would see him every few months at our place or his apartment. One of life’s great pleasures is becoming friends with your friend’s or sibling’s children. Friendship in its own right, not just, “oh, he’s the son of….”

Then one day about a year and a half ago, Tim and Renee came for a visit, along with our old friend Peggy. It turned out Peggy wasn’t the only guest in the car. There it was, boxed up for protection on the 740 mile ride …. The Pelican. Morgan came out to dinner one night while they were visiting, and a surprise gift was given to him. The Pelican was now his and could grace Morgan’s stylish digs in Alexandria, which it did for the next year and a half. The only condition of the gift was, if he ever grew tired of it, it should receive a Viking Funeral (think Beau Geste), and not be unceremoniously hauled off to the dump.

It turned out the Pelican didn’t quite fit in modern times. It didn’t get the chuckles it had in the past, and it’s effect on women was, shall we say, less than desirable. Morgan and I discussed when the appropriate time might be to hold a funeral, and decided we needed to wait for a sign. Last week the sign came, and coincided with a visit from Laurie.

When Morgan and Laurie arrived at the farm yesterday, the Pelican was in tow. We talked about the best way to give a proper send off and when to do it. Should we wait for a better time? Wait for more folk to be in attendance? The quick answer to both of those questions was no. That would have required storing the Pelican in the barn, which was unseemly. The service would be then and there, at the pond.

We found a suitable platform for a boat and secured the Pelican to it. A combustible liquid was poured on the Pelican. In Beau Geste, a dog goes up in flames with the hero, although other films are less definitive. The ashes of one of our previous dogs, Ellie, were already scattered in the pond, and we decided that was close enough.

The funeral cortege moved slowly to the pond. Cathy in front, Morgan and I in the gator providing an escort to the Pelican, with Laurie walking solemnly (or skipping lightly, depending on your perspective) behind. We arrived on the embankment and slowly lowered the float with the Pelican into the pond. After our brief farewells, Morgan said “It’s time”, struck a match and lit the Pelican as we pushed it into the pond. We watched as the flames grew higher and the Pelican was consumed. Each of us was lost in our own thoughts.

As we returned to the house, the skies were black and it started thundering. Shortly after we were inside, the skies opened, and the rain poured. Our lives would go on, but without the Pelican.

We let others know of the Pelican’s passing, and there was much mourning (and perhaps a bit of rejoicing by some). Of all the comments we received, I think our friend Dave did the bird real justice, when he provided the following prayer:

Viking Funeral Prayer (Dated between 4 B.C. and 3 A.D.)

Lo, There do I see my Father

Lo, There do I see my Mother and

My Brothers and my Sisters

Lo, There do I see the line of my people back to the beginning

Lo, They do call to me

They bid me take my place among them in the halls of Valhalla

Where thine enemies have been vanquished

Where the brave shall live Forever

Nor shall we mourn but rejoice for those that have died the glorious death.

…..finis…..

Addendum:

Some other post funeral quotes:

“Oh, the pelicanamity! 😨 ”

“Well, it’s the end of an era. A very fitting demise to a proud, regal bird. Morgan – the next Sand Hill Crane I shoot, I’ll spring for a full body mount and gift it to you for a replacement for the departed pelican.”

“I am speechless ”

“ Mark sent the pic to me this morning. I just finished crying.”

And as Howard himself said “Heartbreaking. But if it had to go, this looks like a good way to do it”.