Tuesday, July 7, 2020

Life Support

That tiny musk turtle we found
floating down the ditch after days
of rain isn't doing anything but sit
on its slab all day peering at its
surroundings like a miniscule
muppet. We can't get it to swim;
it has no interest in the pellets
drifting in the filter flow which 
the label says were specially
made with its shell growth in
mind. It seems to have given
up, maybe before we even 
caught it. But my son has not.
He wants to call an ambulance,
to send the turtle to the hospital
where they can hook it up to an
IV and restore the vigor that 
turtles with nickel-sized shells
are supposed to possess. I have 
no idea how they would find 
a vein, but I'm no rescue worker. 
My son is figuring that out. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Generation Gap

This year because of all the hullabaloo we had to do something different with students' end-of-term speeches and decided they could eith...