Lifelines: The idea of taming a wild creative easier than the deed
Apr. 18—The baby red squirrel darted out of the woods and froze in the gravel road in front of me. I braked my pickup and got out to shoo it away. The cute little rodent ran right up to my boot. Reached my hand down and the wild infant touched my fingers with its nose.
For a moment the fool inside of me thought it would make a nice, unusual pet. But I came to my senses quick. It would be like bringing a pint-sized demon into the house. Red squirrels are the villains of the squirrel family tree.
I imagined chewed up couches, doors and walls. I don't think squirrels can be trained to use litter boxes. And besides, it's against the law to tame wild animals.
When I was little, Dad brought home a baby raccoon and named him Andy.
As he grew into an adult there was never a dull moment. My aunt and uncle lived just down the road from us. While they were away Andy broke into their house.
They arrived home to find my cousin's pet goldfish in two pieces. It was lying on a slice of wet bread that had been dipped in the fishes' water.
Andy picked on our cat too. Billy would be sleeping on the couch, and Andy would sneak up and slap him awake.
After numerous problems with other neighbors, Dad took Andy a few miles away and let him loose. On the way home we stopped at a farmer's house for some forgotten reason. When we pulled into our driveway Andy was waiting for us on the porch.
Next time Dad released Andy 20 miles away, and that was the end of our pet raccoon. I hope he did OK on his own in the woods, after being raised by humans.
My favorite wild pets were three baby painted turtles; Oscar, Myrtle and Tiny. They lived in a wash tub and I changed their water and gravel island every week. They grew so tame we let them walk around the house, and they ate out of my hand.
Then came cold weather. I moved them into my room in a big fish bowl with pebbles for their island. Grandma gave me a pretty stone to put in with them. It turned out to be a piece of alum. The pretty stone dehydrated them and they died. I cried for days.
This month's poem has a happier ending. I heard stories about "Cubby the Fox" many times.
Near the end of my Mom's life, she suffered with dementia, but still remembered Cubby.
We used to take Mom shopping at antique stores or yard sales. We found a mounted fox at a yard sale. Mom bought it, and of course name him Cubby.
The fox stayed with her for her last few years, and she dressed him in different hats.
When she moved into assisted living he followed.
Cubby now sits in my writing room.
Poet Bard Terry Wooten has been performing and conducting writing workshops in schools for more than 30 years. He is also the creator of Stone Circle, a triple ring of boulders featuring poetry, storytelling and music on his property north of Elk Rapids. Learn more at www.terry-wooten.com.
