July 22, 2016 - Long live Saul!

Since I was running very short on time, I quickly threw on my swim suit, my flip flops, grabbed a towel and headed out into the garage in record time flat. Normally, I would have been a bit more organized (throw on the swim suit, A COVER-UP, flip flops, a bag stuffed with sunscreen, a towel, a book, a snack, a drink, goggles, headphones) before heading outside, but today I was in a hurry  and needed to get there, get my swim in, and get back to finish out the tasks of the evening. I also usually walk, but since I was in my swimsuit only (I never do this!) and needed to get there fast, I jumped in the car and opened the garage door to drive the few short blocks. It was sweltering outside and the glare of the sun was reflecting off my window making it difficult to navigate the drive way, but soon enough it was all clear with lots of squinting and I was pulling into the street.……..oh no.

There he was right in front of my car, oblivious to me, making his sluggish way across the scorching pavement. “Saul” (because that is what I do), an adorable rather large turtle about the size of a football, had become the perfect target for, if not my tire, the tire of some fast driving teenager who takes the corners on two wheels. And somehow all of this was now unfolding all on my watch. Because I have an almost supernatural ability to find myself in the company of animals in distress (a recent few: Gertrude, the dehydrated sea duck with a bum wing; Stormy, a pond turtle crossing the soun  Id bridge; Franklin, the sea turtle who had been kidnapped by beach goers; Blinco, the belly-up fish attempting to die in the surf; and now Saul), I'm not totally surprised this is my task for the day. 

So here I was with a choice:

  1. Drive by slowly so that I don’t clip him and head on toward the pool
  2. Get out as fast as lightening (cause I am in my swim suit!) and run like the wind to pick him up and take him to the other side of the road.
  3. Sit and wait in the car acting as a crossing guard in hopes that no other cars come around the corner, but for now the coast is clear.

Number 1 was the obvious choice for any sane adult, because did I mention I was driving my car in my swim suit? Yet Number 3 was a totally plausible option were I not Sally, who absolutely can’t let an animal be in distress or risk of distress, and I, not knowing if Saul was out for his fast paced stroll across the road or a gingerly lackadaisical wobble that would be hours on end to reach the curb (and could he even climb the curb?) forced me into risky decision number 2.

Ok, so it’s Number 2. Come on, Sally, you can do this! I slide into the very middle of the road (to prevent another car from coming through) and put the car in park, though leaving it running so I could make my fast get away when the rescue was complete. I check the windows, the mirrors, the windows again, the mirrors again, while craning my neck as far as I can to ensure no one was out walking or driving by (I’m in my swim suit!) and determine the coast is clear. I open the door, jump out of the car, run fast as I can to the front of the car and pick up football sized Saul in both hands to which he promptly responded with hissing and aggression of “oh no you didn’t!” while I ignore the hiss and purposely whisper sweet sentiments of “you’re so precious”, “what a lovely turtle you are”, “smooch, smooch, smooch” into what I thought may be his little Turtle Ear. We make it to the curb quick like lightening and then I realize, I have carried him back in the direction he had just come so that was  surely a slap in his face for all of his efforts for the last however minutes it had been since he stepped into the road. Then I also remember, glancing in the direction he was heading, that there is a pond in the woods right around the corner, and I imagine this is where his turtle family surely was out camping for the holiday weekend. I simply had to get Saul to the pond! I glance around again, coast is still clear, and pick up poor hissing Saul once again and carry him (arms straight out in front of me) back across the road and now down the street a little in the direction of the corner next to the pond.

(Chatting, laughing, conversations off to my right)

Holy guacamole!!!!! The front door of my neighbor’s house has just opened and out pours what surely was the census of Texas right into their front yard. And there I stand, IN MY SWIMSUIT, holding Saul, BOTH of us now hissing at the outcome of this moment.

Promptly and prideful with head held high I continue my 20 foot jaunt to the grass at the corner and place Saul down facing the pond, walk back to the car, climb in and close the door, then lower my head back down in embarrassment, pull back into the driveway, drive into the garage and close the garage door.

The moral of my oh-so-very-true story is five-fold:
  1. Take the time to grab the cover-up. While I am working so hard not to allow self-shaming, embracing my body flaws does not mean I have to parade myself (carrying a football sized turtle mind you!) in the middle of the street while wearing a swim suit.
  2. Maybe Saul has his own plans and who am I to thwart them? (Ok no, the turtle needed saving and I was just the person to do it. Save the turtle every time!)
  3. Every animal deserves a name as it makes endearment absolute and therefore follow-through a lot more likely when the situation changes.
  4. It’s ok to change your original plans after embarrassment. Nothing shameful about re-prioritizing vacuuming over swimming.
  5. Sometimes we simply need to learn to look for reasons to laugh. The world brings us so many reasons for heart ache so we need to celebrate with laughter when we can.
Long Live Saul! Long Live the Swimsuit Cover-up!





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