It's really heating up where we live - why yesterday it was 101 with a heat index of 110 degrees Fahrenheit. When you're wearing a fur coat, those temps are really cookin'! Still, hot weather notwithstanding, it's my job to protect the homestead - my humans' little slice of American suburbia. I have previously regaled you with tales of me protecting us from squirrels, foxes, groundhogs, stray dogs, neighborhood children, and frogs, but today I bring you the story of the evil box turtle.
When I first came face to face with that face, I wasn't sure what the heck it was. Mom said, "Oh it's a little box turtle!" as if a baby kitten had wandered into the yard. After watching him lumber across our yard for a few minutes, I pinned him up against the fence and barked ferociously enough for my humans to come running at the sound of my alarm. Then Mom rescued him from my wrath, moving him outside the fence and into the edge of the trees behind our house, while I headed inside to cool down. While resting near the air conditioning vent, I got to wondering what this turtle thing was, so I got my tablet and did some research.
In case you don't know, this guy is one of six surviving subspecies of the common box turtle. This particular subspecies, Terrapene c. carolina, is the one commonly referred to as the eastern box turtle and is found along the eastern United States, from Maine to Florida and west to the Great Lakes region and Texas. They live in a variety vegetative areas, including shrubby grasslands, marshy meadows, open woodlands, and field forest edges and are often found near streams, ponds, or areas that have experienced heavy rainfall.
That sounds nothing like where we live, so what was it doing in our yard? Mom pointed out that we had had a pounding rainfall the previous evening - a lot of rain that came down hard and fast. I guess our yard could count as an area that has experienced heavy rainfall then, but we don't have any streams or ponds, not to mention grasslands, meadows, or fields. Mom proposed that Boxy (might as well give him a catchy name) crawled under the north gate of our fence, where water runoff has caused the ground to wash away over time, leaving a pretty big gap. Still, why come into our dry, crusty, nearly grassless back yard in the first place?
"Maybe he just needed to get away," Mom suggested.
"From what?" I imagined an even bigger turtle chasing him - the neighborhood bully of Turtleland, forcing Boxy to seek safe shelter inside our fence, where a fathead moron wouldn't be as fortunate as Boxy to be able to squeeze under the gate.
Mom looked at me skeptically, as I realized I was imaging that out loud, and then she said, "Sure, I guess that could be it," in a tone I know to be patronizing.
"What else would it be?" I pressed. I mean, when Big Brother and I watch TV together, there seems to often be a cartoon villain of some sort from whom others run and hide. Mom had a whole other angle, because she fancies herself a deep thinker. She suggested Boxy just needed a change. When I asked from what, she said just his life in general. She said lots of folks get to feeling like they need a change of scenery in their lives - either a literal one, which they fix by taking a trip somewhere fun, or a proverbial one, where they just need life to be a little different.
"That's deep, Mom. Why do you think Boxy might need things to be different?"
Ever the philosopher, Mom surmised that life can really get folks down sometimes - people or maybe even turtles. The stress of making a way in the world can be a lot. No matter what the situation, pretty much everyone has worries and challenges. Add to that the burden that comes from carrying the expectations of others, whether real or imagined, and any mere mortal anything would jump at the chance to just stop Earth from spinning for a second so they could get off, take a minute, and hop back on after the break. But since we can't stop the world from turning or time from marching on, we have to find other ways of getting that break, and for some of us, just taking a different path - even for just a short time - is the answer. Sometimes a new path can lead to a permanent change for the better, so Mom was really proud of Boxy for sticking it out there and trying something new.
As it turned out, Boxy's choice to go under the gate wasn't really the best, because once he made it to the top of the yard and stumbled upon a ferocious watch dog, he couldn't get himself out of that situation. I barked loudly a lot, and then he freaked out and pulled his head inside his shell, after which I batted at his shell while trying to figure out where the heck his head went. Every now and then, he'd peek his little head back out to assess the situation, and I'd try to swat that to the ground and almost got him once or twice! But then along came Mom, that ne'er-do-well do-gooder, and saved him from the bad path he had chosen.
When I pointed that out to Mom, she said that's just how life works. When you're feeling all boxed in, and you try to make a change, it can sometimes be a not-so-good path you choose that does not lead to a positive change. And then, you just feel all boxed in all over again, sometimes in a worse situation. Mom said that's a terrible place to be, because it can feel hopeless. Folks like Boxy, who are feeling boxed in, need a hand from someone else. She said if we can look for those folks in our lives, sensing when they might be needing a little help, we can reach out and offer our support, which is just what she did for Boxy. She said it's important to remember that everybody needs somebody, even if they don't realize it at the time. Helping might mean just a kind smile to someone struggling, an offer of a shared meal, or just an ear to listen. If we can do that for others, then when we need help - even if we don't know it - someone will do the same for us. What goes around, comes around, she said.
After pondering all Mom's wisdom, I got to feeling kind of sad for Boxy. Mom had saved him from me and helped him get back outside the fence, but what was next for him? Mom said that was up to Boxy. He'd have to muster up the courage to rally and try again, and hopefully he'd bump into someone else who could encourage him in that. One thing I read online about the eastern box turtle is that they have an instinctive ability to find their way back home, even if they're in an unfamiliar area. That made me feel a bit better about Boxy, not knowing how far he had come for his change - just from the culvert near the street, where all the water runoff ends up, or from a far away marsh? Boxy might have looked slow to me, but he can travel about 55 yards in one day, so who knows how long he'd been walking to his new scenery! Knowing he was eventually going to find his way home gave me the warm and fuzzies, and since I like happy endings, we're gonna stop right there.
Interested in box turtles? Check out the National Zoo's website, my primary source of facts about Boxy!
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