Let the Games Begin!

A friend e-mailed me yesterday.  "You don't write any more.  What is going on?"

I dunno.  It's summer.  A lot of things going on at home, with Greg and I,  injured box turtles, geckos, new house, and Frankie.  Things!

I mean, it's summer.  Yeah, Frankie is busier than ever.

Yesterday I was working in the yard and I spy Greg just standing in the middle of the yard watching Frankie walk the fence line.

"What are you doing, Greg?"

"Watching Frankie get in trouble."

I look back at Frankie who is just walking along the fence line.

"He is just walking, Greg."

"If Frankie is walking Frankie is getting into trouble." 

I look back at Frankie at the end of the fence line.  As if he was plainly blind Frankie bumps nose first into the corner fence.  He shakes off hauling right into the fence, shimmies the corner and proceeds walking along the fence line.

I see Frankie do this walk-into-corner-bump-into-wall a lot.  He just doesn't get corners all that well.  He just doesn't get a lot of things that well.

Greg and I emptied our rented storage space.  Twenty boxes, two vivariums, two bicycles, a dining room table and chairs, holiday decorations, turn table, lawn spreader, mirror, and a few miscellaneous bits were stuffed into two vehicles and driven home as the last bit of evidence that we moved six months ago.

We decided it would be easiest to take everything through the back gate since it's a quick 12 foot walk to the backdoor. Straight into the house. 

Not taken into account is the path from car to house passes right through a territory belonging to a beast who can make a twelve foot path fraught with all kinds of dangers. Boxes in arm, we walk into the yard and head directly to the backdoor.

Frankie is quick to observe two potential food givers and made a beeline to the back door.  When we came out of the house we are forced to hop over the big shelled obstacle.  We dashed to the back gate with Frankie in hot pursuit.

And so began games of tag, leap frog, hopscotch, and tag with Greg and I passing back and forth from gate to door and Frankie looking a lot like Jackie Robinson playing rundown back and forth between first base and second base.

Except he isn't as quick as Jackie Robinson.

You see, Frankie's turn's are awkward.  He is like a big car attempting to turn around in a very narrow street: pull back, shift forward, one step, push back on back foot, slide front foot over, push back foot forward, step forward once, pull back, shift forward.....and so on.

Our trips to and fro cars and house continue.  Stuck mid route is Frankie looking to tag the first human to pass in front of him.  Just as he is turned to get the one walking into the house the other is just walking in the gate.  It's like a game of Keep Away and Frankie can't win.

He is persistent.

Back to Frankie's apparent blindness.

We dug a trench in the yard from the house to the solar panels.  The trench wasn't that deep or wide but it's obvious to any one or animal with eyes.  Except Frankie.

Frankie walked right into that trench, dozens of times.  Every time one of his feet fell in he looked annoyed or surprised. 

Just how long is this canyon going to be here?

This is annoying.

It's hard not to be amused with Frankie, at the expensive of his dignity.  It's just Frankie's profound lack of spatial awareness creates potential for chaos during his everyday walking around.

Good morning, Frankie.  Hope you had a good sleep.

Let the chaos commence!