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June 13th, 2007

Writus interruptus

This morning I was hard at work on the last major entry for The Halloween Sourcebook - a mildly edited version of James Frazer's 20-page entry on "Hallowe'en Fires" from the full-length Golden Bough - when Ricky came running into the apartment and exclaimed, somewhat breathlessly, "There's a turtle in the driveway!"

"What?" I said.

I followed him down and sure enough, there sitting in the middle of the narrow driveway that bisects our apartment complex was a large box turtle, well over 6" long, with dirt caked on his shell...and our resident maniac cat Norman (guess where he got that name?) was sitting two feet away, practically licking his chops.

Of course we couldn't just leave the turtle to the certain doom of either speeding car or ravenous feline, so we picked him up and carried him into our apartment. We found a nice large cardboard box and placed the turtle into it.

The turtle promptly became cat t.v. Our little darlings were completely enthralled by the sound of the turtle's claws scraping the cardboard. We had to move the box several times, until we found a corner of the kitchen that wasn't feline-accessible.

Of course that was it for my workday. I spent the rest of it calling neighbors, constantly running downstairs to ask passersby if they were missing a turtle (!), and checking on the poor little amphibian in the cardboard box.

So...anybody want a turtle? Please? So I can finish my book?