Shotgun Daddy

I Am the Hawk Whisperer

Sometimes you find yourself sitting at the keyboard, fingers poised at the corner of asdf and jkl; waiting for an idea that never comes.  Other times, like today, inspiration flies in through the front door.  Here's the story.

Even though we have no screen doors, we tend to leave our front and back doors wide open during the afternoon and evenings to take advantage of the breeze that comes up around that time.  The obvious drawback is that small irritations like june bugs and Japanese beetles sometimes find their way in.  Today was different.  Today a hawk came through the door.

Leslie was working at the computer and the kids and I were lounging on the couch watching TV when we were suddenly pulled from our trances by the sound of frantically flapping wings.  We've had an occasional bird blunder in from the patio before, but this was something completely different.  A hawk had chased its prey (a mourning dove) into our home, feathers were swirling everywhere, and my children and wife were shrieking and cowering in various corners of the room.

The hawk realized immediately that it had followed its prey too far.  Searching for an escape route, he began circling the living room, sending Leslie and the kids scrambling to the safety of a nearby bathroom.  Our ceilings are the standard eight feet off the ground, so our guest's talons were inches from the top of my head as he tried in vain to find a way out.  It's amazing how quickly thoughts can run through your head at a time like this.  As cool as the whole thing was -- and trust me, it was pretty cool -- I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if this bird of prey became scared enough to turn his talons and beak on me.

Thankfully he tired out fairly quickly and settled into a corner against the sliding glass patio door.  As I bent over to gather him in a towel, I noticed that he was clearly more frightened than any of us.  His beak was open and pressed against the door, leaving a small triangle of steam that grew and shrank in time to his heaving breaths.  He struggled only briefly after I picked him up, but quickly relaxed and turned his head a hundred and eighty degrees to look me square in the eye.  He was absolutely magnificent.  I walked out into the backyard and gently tossed him into the afternoon breeze; even before he was out of sight I found myself wishing for him to come back.  Perhaps tomorrow.

Here's some video of the catch and release.  Please excuse the brief appearance of my ass.

Bullfrog Love

The poets say that you can't put a price tag on true love.  But for those of us who don't live our lives in iambic pentameter, we know better.  In this story, love can be had for the bargain price of a single dollar.  Read on.

It started at a garage sale just over a month ago.  We were looking through piles of old books, toys, and clothes when Alison discovered an old frog hatchery kit.  Maybe you remember the one you had when you were a kid -- inside the box is a small plastic aquarium, frog food, a magnifying glass, and a coupon to send away for some mail-order tadpoles.

This particular kit was almost certainly older than Alison, and when we got home and opened it up, there was no coupon to be found.  Alison was disappointed, but I told her not to worry; I knew we'd find her some tadpoles with just a few clicks of the mouse.  Within minutes we had landed at a site which promised six live bullfrog tadpoles for $12.95.  After adding some food and paying $16.95 for shipping (they had to come via FedEx since they were live organisms), we were in for $34.40.  And it was just the beginning.

 

The box arrived a week later and Alison's face lit up like Christmas morning as she lifted the plastic bag out of the styrofoam box and saw not six, but seven tadpoles flitting around in the water.  She saw seven frogs, but I saw seven funerals.  I hoped that they'd all grow up and turn into bullfrogs, but experience taught me that this was unlikely.  Death was inevitable.

 

We realized after only a few days that we needed a bigger tank, so we headed off to the local fish store and bought a tank, water conditioner, some gravel, a large rock, and a filter.  $63.98.  We spent about twenty-five dollars on another trip, and about ten bucks since then on miscellaneous supplies.

 

But even with all that, the tadpoles started dying.  After a few more trips to the fish store for advice, we were finally able to settle things down, but not until only two tadpoles remained.  Since then, one of the tadpoles has lost his tail and become a frog.  It's hard to believe that he'll be a bullfrog someday, because now he could sit on a nickel with room to spare.

 

Perhaps because he's so incredibly cute, or perhaps because of all the tears shed when the other tadpoles passed away, Alison is head over heels in love with her frog.  She checks on him as soon as she wakes up and wonders what he's doing when they're apart.  She enjoys feeding him crickets (see below), and asks every single day if she can keep him when he grows up.  This is still up for debate.

 

But the really interesting thing is that her bullfrog love has triggered an academic curiosity of all things frog.  She took it upon herself to start a frog journal on the day her tadpoles arrived, and she has filled it with sketches of the tadpoles and written observations of what's been happening.  When I suggested that she could check out a book about frogs from the library, she immediately produced one she had checked out earlier that day.  When she returned that one, she checked out three more.

 

These tadpoles have been more than just a passing novelty.  They have inspired her to learn, encouraged her to care, and brightened her life.  Sure, we spent a lot more than that original dollar at the garage sale, but it's been worth every penny. 

Sunday in the Park

We spent our Sunday afternoon riding bikes at El Dorado Park.  Here's the video proof, with words to follow tomorrow.  Leslie bought me a Flip video camera for Father's Day (very cool, by the way), and this is the first film I've actually edited with it.  Since all the camera work was shot from the seat of a bike, it's a bit jumpy at times.  Apologies.