Insignificant

Over the last two days, I've sat at the computer several times to write and . . . nothing.

Where are all the cute little things Daelyn usually says. Where are all the funny stories about Deanna? What's happened to all of Dane's interesting escapades? Not even a scrap about Donovan sprung to mind!

You see, Turtle-y went away. Several times a day, I check under the gardenias. No turtle. I even crawled under the deck yesterday, in hopes that I might find him there. Nope. He definitely left home.

He's a turtle! How attached can you get to a carnivorous, walking shell?

Apparently, very. I guess my mothering instincts have not yet been exhausted with only 3 children, so they've turned them on Donovan and, now, a little green turtle with yellow spots on his head and a large lump on the right side of his neck.

I missed him terribly and worried myself sick. I just couldn't understand where he could be. He doesn't really move very fast. Did we do something wrong? Was there a need of his that we failed to meet? Was he thirsty and out looking for water? Didn't I serve up enough raw hamburger for his taste? Don said he was probably hungry and I hadn't fed him enough. Just how much do turtles eat? Maybe he needed more variety. The scrambled eggs I threw in occasionally just didn't do the trick.

Don told me I should have caught some flies and fed them to him. I drew the line at flies. There are some things a human mother JUST DOESN'T DO - even me. And I highly suspected Don's comments were tongue-in-cheek.

In all honesty, as pitiful as this all sounds, I really did think all these thoughts. He seemed so happy and always returned home from his daily excursions until, suddenly, he just disappeared. It occurred to me late yesterday that maybe he had gone back to Grandma's house. Dane found that suggestion very interesting.

For days now, I've been mooning around the house, avoiding posting to my Blog, and looking out across the lawns, hoping to see a green spot moving. Deanna was shocked by my level of disappointment. She kept saying, "Mom, he's just a turtle. He's a wild animal!" Maybe she'll begin to understand a little bit about how, by comparison, I love her, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone. She's a very perceptive child and she's paid attention to my reactions to this situation. How much more must I love their daddy and them when I'm struggling over the loss of a little turtle that's only been hanging around for 2 weeks.

I was making the children's lunches this morning and doing Deanna's practice spelling test while the children ate breakfast and Don put on his tennis shoes, when there was a knock on the kitchen door.

"I'm in my pajamas," I yelled to Don. "Somebody else answer the door." I ran around the corner into the dining room where I could listen to the conversation with the neighbor.

I heard our next door neighbor tells the boys, "There's a turtle over in our yard. Would you like him?"

"TURTLE-Y," I shrieked and ran back into the kitchen. Deanna's eyes got big around - not with surprise that we may have found our turtle, but that I ran into the kitchen in my pajamas. The boys were just running out the back door, heading for the neighbor's yard. I sat down on the bench, facing the window, and watched as our neighbor led them around to the front of his house. They were gone a long time, but Dane finally reappeared carrying OUR LITTLE TURTLE. He looked up at the windows, caught sight of me, and grinned.

"It's Turtle-y, Mom," he yelled. I smiled back, then opened the window and yelled to him,

"Put him back under the gardenias and give him some water. I'll cut up some hamburger meat."

When Dane came inside, he told me that Turtle-y was next to their garden hose. Dane thinks he was looking for his water pan and couldn't find it. We're all convinced that he got lost and was trying to find his way home, but wasn't sure where we were. I don't think turtles have a very good homing instinct.

Dane filled up his water pan and Turtle-y immediately ran to it, stuck his head out, and had a very long drink. I began slicing thin pieces off the frozen 3lb. block of hamburger meat and putting them on a plate, which I delivered to our Prodigal. He was just finishing his drink and began his feast while we all watched. I was very happy to see him home again, needless to say.

He must be a male, because it occurred to me that he's going to break my heart over and over again. I'm sure he will disappear many more times, and at some point, won't reappear. And I'll be sad . . . for a while. But I'll get over it. After all, he is a wild animal.

For now, though, he's home. And his little gardenia house seems full of life again.