This post is going to be rather sappy, so be warned. I am just a rather old softy at heart. This story climaxed today but actually started about two weeks ago, the last time I mowed. I know it must have been two weeks ago because the weeds I mowed today were about knee high.
Two weeks ago I mowed the weeds (and few blades of grass) because the weeds were, well, knee high. I was mowing some rather tall vegetation along the end of the house when I looked down and saw a horrifying sight. A Texas Horned Lizard (a horny toad if you from these parts) was writhing in the grass I had just mowed. The poor thing was bleeding from its head, and it was missing a front foot. I was struck with remorse and compassion for this creature and I did a crazy thing. I caught it and took it into the house, where I provided what little help I could think of to do for it.
Just as I had feared, the horned lizard was missing its right front foot. But the injury on the head was bleeding very heavily. I poured water over the poor little horny toad, and I am not sure what I thought that would do for her, but at least it got off some of the blood. I then wrapped the animal in a small white cloth and held it for a few minutes.
My spouse, seeing what all was going on, was struck speechless, but only for a few seconds. When she recovered her voice, she insisted that I take the horny toad outside and release it since there was nothing I could do for it. I knew she was right but I felt incredibly bad about hurting this little creature. Since there was really nothing more to do, however, I took the horny toad outside and placed it under a large rose bush. I consigned the poor thing's spirit to the Great Spirit and returned to mowing. That was that, or so I thought.
Flash forward to today, this morning at 11:00 AM, to be specific. My lovely bride and I were constructing a small rail and brick fence in the front yard. My lovely bride yelled and pointed at something, and then I realized that she had seen a horny toad. I thought to myself wouldn't it be something if this turned out to be "Stubby!" Then I saw it myself. It was Stubby! I was elated! I had feared that Stubby, as the horny toad was now known to us, must have crawled into some sheltered place and died. But there she was!
The tragedy of running over a horny toad was even greater because I suspected that I had run over a pregnant one. She was very fat. Today Stubby was very skinny, so apparently she gave birth at some point after our dangerous encounter. I have not seen any horny toad children, but then, there are a lot of loose cats around, so it is possible that the baby horny toads had some felinious encounters. But I was so happy to see that Stubby's head was healed, and she seemed to get around very well on three good feet and one stub.
I know it seems awfully mundane and probably very sappy, but I was so happy to see that this horny toad was alive and thriving in spite of the injuries I had caused it when I rolled over it with the lawn mower. I believe that horny toads, which are so much a part of Texas lore, have been declining in numbers over the past couple of decades, so I certainly did not want to needlessly kill one. Yes, I know, this was a sappy story, and I admit, I am definitely just an old softy,
Two weeks ago I mowed the weeds (and few blades of grass) because the weeds were, well, knee high. I was mowing some rather tall vegetation along the end of the house when I looked down and saw a horrifying sight. A Texas Horned Lizard (a horny toad if you from these parts) was writhing in the grass I had just mowed. The poor thing was bleeding from its head, and it was missing a front foot. I was struck with remorse and compassion for this creature and I did a crazy thing. I caught it and took it into the house, where I provided what little help I could think of to do for it.
Just as I had feared, the horned lizard was missing its right front foot. But the injury on the head was bleeding very heavily. I poured water over the poor little horny toad, and I am not sure what I thought that would do for her, but at least it got off some of the blood. I then wrapped the animal in a small white cloth and held it for a few minutes.
My spouse, seeing what all was going on, was struck speechless, but only for a few seconds. When she recovered her voice, she insisted that I take the horny toad outside and release it since there was nothing I could do for it. I knew she was right but I felt incredibly bad about hurting this little creature. Since there was really nothing more to do, however, I took the horny toad outside and placed it under a large rose bush. I consigned the poor thing's spirit to the Great Spirit and returned to mowing. That was that, or so I thought.
Flash forward to today, this morning at 11:00 AM, to be specific. My lovely bride and I were constructing a small rail and brick fence in the front yard. My lovely bride yelled and pointed at something, and then I realized that she had seen a horny toad. I thought to myself wouldn't it be something if this turned out to be "Stubby!" Then I saw it myself. It was Stubby! I was elated! I had feared that Stubby, as the horny toad was now known to us, must have crawled into some sheltered place and died. But there she was!
The tragedy of running over a horny toad was even greater because I suspected that I had run over a pregnant one. She was very fat. Today Stubby was very skinny, so apparently she gave birth at some point after our dangerous encounter. I have not seen any horny toad children, but then, there are a lot of loose cats around, so it is possible that the baby horny toads had some felinious encounters. But I was so happy to see that Stubby's head was healed, and she seemed to get around very well on three good feet and one stub.
I know it seems awfully mundane and probably very sappy, but I was so happy to see that this horny toad was alive and thriving in spite of the injuries I had caused it when I rolled over it with the lawn mower. I believe that horny toads, which are so much a part of Texas lore, have been declining in numbers over the past couple of decades, so I certainly did not want to needlessly kill one. Yes, I know, this was a sappy story, and I admit, I am definitely just an old softy,
That's the sweetest thing I've ever read. And the snappiness was balanced with practicality (feline encounters). You tell a good story Wes.
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