Saturday, July 2, 2011

My New Neighbor, Bartholomew

When I stepped out of the cabin this morning, I was swept up in the excitement of two barefoot kids next door. They have a new pet, Bartholomew the Turtle.  This box turtle was rescued from the road by one of the adults in their cabin. (I was wryly informed he's on suicide watch because any turtle who tries to walk across the road on the July 4th weekend must has a death wish.)

Anyway, Bartholomew has a new tupperware home, nicely decorated with rocks and water.  He has lettuce to munch on and two new owners to admire how fast he can walk and how quickly he can retreat when anyone gets too close.  His under-shell is a lovely orange and he seems friendly enough.

The policy up here is generally catch and release, which could be re-interpreted as survival of the fittest. It's hard to be a critter loved by a seven or eight-year-old, even for 24 hours.  On the other hand, there is a lot to be learned from watching a frog or a turtle or a giant warty toad.

And let's face it, Bartholomew might have been good for nothing but soup if someone hadn't come along and pulled him off the road.  Life is a game of chance, even for turtles.

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