Dabchick, Explorer of Earth’s Third Pole

— Come on, bring my boat to the ocean, said Dabchick, pointing at the former can of tuna, that had a hole cut out for him
— What, why? it’s in the middle of winter, you’ll catch a cold, I replied
— That is precisely why you should bring me there. We will explore the new found third pole of earth. Right here, right now, else we won’t be the first to explore it and get famous!
— What would you do with this fame?
— Name it the Dabchick pole, obviously!
— Alright, Dabchick, go ahead, but don’t expect me to get into the cold water with you.
— Doesn’t matter. You could’ve brought your own boat. Let’s go!

A while later, I was standing at the village lake, Dabchick in one hand, his boat in the other. The other side, which was perpetually shielded from the sun due to the many big trees around it, was somewhat frozen.

— Let me down! I can go explore the rest of this pole by myself.
— Have you prepared a speech before you venture into the unknown?
— No, but you can come up with something before I return. If I return, that is.
— You don’t expect to drown in this lake, do you?
— I fear not death, I fear not the cold! Long live the regime!, Dabchick cried out, waddling towards the shore, and then stopped.
— What is it, Dabchick?
— What is it, he asks. Very funny. Ruining another grand moment. If they had sent you on the moon, the first thing earth would’ve heard was you farting while climbing down the ladder!
— Good thing they didn’t send me to the moon then. So?
— So? Give me my damn boat before I process you to fish food!

And there he went, thinking about his glorious return when earth would no doubt bow for him and name him the finest explorer.

Some kids came by and saw Dabchick struggling to sail his boat across the centimetre-high waves. He was almost 5 meters in to his long journey. The kids started skipping stones, not for fun, but to hit Dabchick.

— The enemy is engaging, Dabchick screamed, — open fire!
— I’m not going to punch children for you, Dabchick.
— Then take them hosta – – – at this moment, a stone hit and promptly sank the boat.
— SAAAVE ME!

I told the kids to stop throwing rocks and went into the water. It was hip-deep by the time I reached Dabchick. Dabchick gasped after air, clinging onto the can that was now barely swimming, and then finally jumped onto me.

— Let’s go home, I said.
— That’s probably for the best.