The Good, the Bad and the Devoured

Greg and I were about to run errands so I thought I would set aside my shopping list to check on Frankie before we left.

I got outside and noticed that Frankie had finely gotten up out of his cave and had been in his pool.  Evidence of the pool visit was three poops now swimming in the kiddy pool water.

Good Frankie...I need poops for my Miracle Frankie Poo Garden.

So where is Frankie?

I take a walk around peeking under the patio even though I don't expect him there on such a warm and overcast day.  I proceed to the West side of the yard.  No Frankie.  I head up o the top of the yard and the wooded area.  No Frankie.

Maybe he is by the back 40 fence.  I walk into the wooded area and then walk the whole back fence.  There are trimmings still on the ground from my earlier trip to the back for wild berries.  Onward I go toward the East side of the fence and Frankie's favorite pile-o-leaves.  No Frankie.  I proceed down the fence into the open area of the yard.  No Frankie.

Hmmm.  Maybe I overlooked him.  Back to the kiddy pool to check the cave.

Holy shells!  The gate is open.  My heart drops.  How long has Frankie been out?  How far down the street could he walked?

I run through the gate.

To my great relief I spy a large Frankie shell butt on the drive.  GOOD Frankie!  He hasn't gone far.

Oh, shells and turtle tails!  Frankie is in the miracle garden and he is grazing!

BAD Frankie!

I rush to him to find he is happily munching on pumpkin leaves.

At least hasn't started eating the pumpkins yet!

I have to get the BAD Frankie outta the garden and back into his yard.

I'm not picking him up!  I'm just getting over my last back pain from last week.

Luckily, my car is ten feet from Frankie and I and I know I have a Frankie lifting strap inside.

Eight seconds later and I have the strap over him before he can finish off another pumpkin leaf.

"Help! Greg!"  Will Greg hear me?  This will be less painful for me if Greg could help get Frankie back into the yard.

Using the Frankie lifting strap I spin Frankie around off the pumpkin leaves.

Frankie starts moving.  Oh, no!  The zucchini squash, tomatoes, peas and cucumbers!  What a huge disaster if Frankie grazes he through the garden on his way back to his yard.

Surprisingly,  Frankie walks briskly toward the gate.

I stand for there for several seconds in utter amazement.

Okay, I stood there for several more seconds because I was completely astonished.

Frankie walked past the garden full of tomatoes and didn't attempt to eat a single one.

I was prepared to sacrifice my back, hands, arms and all to keep him from those home grown treasures.

Frankie keeps walking toward his yard not stopping at all.

I stood for a few more moments with my jaw wide open.

Good Frankie.  GOOD Frankie.

As Frankie ambles back into his yard without me pushing, lifting or crying, not a muscle strained in my back, only one little turn with a strap, and he looks happy to oblige me by returning to the yard all by himself.

I look back at the garden.  I-am-huge-mister-Frankie could have devoured three months of home grown yummy vegetables in ten minutes, yet only ate five pumpkin leaves. 

GOOD Frankie.

The garden goes UN-devoured.

Someone pinch me.  I must be sleeping.

What could possibly possess Frankie to be so good?