Frankie got himself into a bit of a bind today. You know those Chinese finger traps (Google if you don't)? Well, Frankie got himself into one -- the size of a sulcata.
I went out this afternoon to check on the 'ole Franks only to find him MIA from the yard. :o Not to panic I did a double check just to be sure I hadn't overlooked him or any signs of a kidnapping. No Frankie in his house, under the porch, in the back '40s, by the trash pile, under the tree we took down yesterday. The fence was locked, nothing knocked over, no missing planks. He had to be inside somewhere. So I went for the third look under the porch.
It was then I noticed some dark, dug up soil that wasn't familiar from any of my "worm digs" I've been doing. Then it dawned on me. Pulling back a big black plastic container (used to be Frankie's old house) there was some funny looking stretched wire fencing that was nearly covered with newly dug dirt crammed in it.
Apparently Frankie, having noticed that I had "re-arranged" under the porch to clean it up a bit, had taken advantage of the poorly placed container to attempt a new tunnel. He had dug under the container and under some wound up wire fencing and proceeded to tunnel toward the air conditioning units (remember those from two summers ago?).
The plan was brilliant. The tunnel was nearly unnoticeable. The dirt was pushed up into a coil of wire which was blocked by the plastic container. Very clever....until a 50 pound sulcata attempts to back out of the tunnel and into the wire coil.
Oh, yes, Frankie had backed his butt into the wire coil and was caught like a finger in a Chinese finger trap. Go forward and the coil relaxes. Back up (to freedom) and get caught in the wire. Stuck he was. Probably since very early this morning.
When I managed to pull the wire-hugged Frankie back from the hole (oh, the indignity!), I nearly had to resort to rolling Frankie to loosen him from The Old Bale of Wire. Poor baby! Poor shell - it will never look the same!
Once freed, Frankie walked....um, no, he ran from under the porch and didn't stop until, well until he met his first clump of grass. Poor baby. Not a bite of grass all day.
I guess its time to go back to see if he has made a second attempt. I am sure he has already forgotten his crime and punishment.