I walk into the backyard after a long unhappy morning of chores and errands…..(be honest, chores and errands are rarely ‘happy’)…..instead of entering the front or side door because about a mile from home the thought of Frankie pops into my mind and it’s the first happy thought to arrive today.
Frankie has beensettlinginto his summer life in the yard. He is busy selecting basking spots, checking out new plant growth, looking over new man-made items that landed there over the winter, and re-establish his dominance over boulders and tubs lest they forget who is the king of the yard.
I catch Frankie examining a pile of wood leaning against his shed. He spies asuspiciouslyevil looking white pipe that seems to have returned after he firmly expelled from the yard last fall. He is having difficulty getting to it as there are three plastic patio chairs lined up in front of pipe.
I see whats going on.
Frankie does not plow through the chairs to reach the offending pipe but instead he sits. It’s a pitiful looking sit. Frankie knows that pipe is there but lacks the “umph” to do anything about it. Hefinallyturns around and crawls under the chair I am sitting it. Wisely, I abandonthe chair.
Frankie just sits there. 3/4 of him is under the chair and the rest of him (legs and head) jut out from under the chair. Sulcata tortoises take upthis position when they plan to haul said furniture across the yard. This is why we call sulcata tortoisesFurnitureMovers.
But Frankie just sits.
Sensing somediscontent in that sit, I sit down next to Frankie so we cannotcommunicateabout what’s wrong. We both stare out into the yard. Me because I am miserable that there is no dark chocolate and ice tea to refresh me after errands, and Frankie, well, I don’t know what’s got him so preoccupied. He just stares out into the yard just like me.
I get an idea.
“Frankie. Is it Miss Umbrella Stand? Are you missing her?”
I dive under the patio where all kinds of yard items are stuffed during the winter. Half the stuff should have been thrown away but it was too cold to go outside and throw anything away. Those kinds of things are sitting under the patio along with Frankie’s stuff I just haven’t pulled out yet.
There she lay. Back against the brick house and covered by a garden hose Iretrievethe umbrella stand bought five years ago yet it has never held an umbrella.
I drag out the umbrella stand and set it under the Golden Rain Tree.
Frankie gets up and walks calmly to the umbrella stand. He stops right next to it andconsidersit for several minutes. He then half walks over it and stops so his back leg still holds on. A quick pivot and Frankie is on top.
He sits there. Maybe savoring the moment.
He …read more
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