Ms. J. K. Rowling has given us the the idea of the Patronus: the ghostly animal that comes jumping out to protect you when you’re in trouble.
I have never had any doubt about mine.
My spirit animal, my Patronus, is an angry greedy little black duck who often gets his beak shot off.
I grew up with Warner Brothers cartoons; I couldn’t get enough of them. Since many of them were made in the 1930s and 1940s, I was often puzzled by the cultural references (and still haven’t worked some of them out), but I could tell that they were smart and witty and clever – in an adult way – far more than their competitors at Disney or Hanna-Barbera or MGM.
I loved Bugs Bunny, of course. I had a stuffed Bugs Bunny that talked when you pulled his string. He said things like “I like you!” and “I’m sleepy” and (naturally) “What’s up, doc?” I cherished him and took him to bed with me every night.
But my favorite cartoons were the ones with Daffy Duck.
Daffy is lazy, and not very honest. He is vindictive. He goes into futile rages. Sometimes he’s so angry that he’s speechless. He schemes, but his schemes aren’t very well constructed. He tries very hard to be sophisticated, and he fails every time. He almost always says the wrong thing. He is easily defeated.
But he always comes popping back up. He’s indefatigable. He might close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, but he always comes back for more. He fails, but he keeps trying.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is me in a nutshell.
I’m a greedy little coward, and I often fail, but I just keep going and going.
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