Born Free
Yesterday, while walking to a meeting at the church building, I found a baby turtle. This was an unexpected find, especially in our neighborhood. The turtle (which was very small) was on the sidewalk and looked parched. Don’t ask me what criteria I used to determine the critter was parched.
I picked the turtle up and took him/her to the office with the intent of showing him to the kids. I got a large plastic bowl, filled it with dirt, grass, and a water bottle capful of water. Cut the requisite air vents in the lid and placed the container in a light muted region.
As you might guess the kids loved looking at the turtle and immediately began to question, “can we keep it?” Kind of reminds me of what Beth said when she first met me: “He’ so cute, can I keep him?” Well, she remembers it one way and I have my own version!
I found the turtle right next to an abandoned lot, the eyesore of the neighborhood. Since we had a huge mid-west style thunderstorm Saturday night, I figured the turtle had been washed down onto the sidewalk and was having difficulty returning to its lush, forest like surroundings.
I explained to the kids that removing this turtle from it’s “natural habitat” meant caring for and providing daily food for him/ her. That the decision to keep the turtle meant the decision to be responsible for the well-being of the turtle not just for the next few days but for the life of the turtle.
Surprisingly, the kids quickly decided that it was better to put the turtle back from whence it came (though they did not use the word whence) that the turtle could remain a wild turtle. Come on sing with me now: “Born Free . . .” I hope they take more time making the decision to care for their aging parents!
How about you? Do you have any fond memories or funny stories of finding animals you’ve wanted to keep?
By the way, no turtles were harmed in the writing of this blog.
5 Responses to “Born Free”
My life has been full of animal stories, particularly concerning cats! Most recently, I took in a stray cat, just long enough to feed, water, and find a home for it. Departing from sanity momentarily, I took it into the house where my 18 year-old Himalayan lay sleeping the sleep of the privileged……….until she sensed an alien on her turf. Needless to say, I got the worst end of it and learned a valued lesson. I still carry the scars!
Our cat, Tabby, used to belong to the neighbors next door. She used to visit us often but became a regular when her owners bought an enormous dog. She adopted us at that point and, when the neighbors moved away, it took a conversation all of a minute long to determine that she would stay with us.
By the way, she has one eye that doesn’t work very well and James will sometimes walk around the house with his right eye shut saying, “I’m Tabby.”
Shortly after we married, on a very cold, rainy afternoon, we heard some whimpering near the entrance to the church building and found a litter of puppuies huddled together at the base of a tree. They were soaking wet and miserable. We took the entire litter home, raised them in our spare bathroom until Spring and found a home for all of them.
My latest animal story is Chipper, and you know all about her!
Two months after my wife and I were married in 1981, we adopted a kitten that we saw on the local television station. “Taffy” was part of a litter of kittens that were up for adoption at a Catholic Church Auction. The auction was covered by the local television station. I know, it must have been a slow news day.
Having no children, Taffy became our child. He became the center of our universe that existed in a 12 X 50 trailer. There was many a night that Taffy would wind up in our bed. I remember one morning in particular when I woke up and I turned over to look at my lovely new bride. As I turned over I saw my wife and our cat sharing the same pillow. Taffy seemed to be mimicking Barbara’s position on the bed. She was sleeping on her side facing away from the bed and Taffy was in the same position, his head on the pillow facing the middle of our bed.
Taffy ended up living 18 years. When he died it was like losing a family member. I guess you could say he was our “meow.”
My most vivid animal reminisence was when I had to take our loose bowelled dog to the vet. Whether due to the condition or because of the relative speed at which the driver of the taxi was driving it just kept “letting loose” all the way to the vet. It was a fairly discomfitting experience which sadly culminated in her death.
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