Set it ALL free
I have a condition that annoys people who live with me: I can’t seem to close or tighten anything completely.
This would include almost anything from mayonnaise jars to the bureau drawer and even the dog’s collar.
You may assume it’s laziness on my part, but it isn’t. The problem is I loathe the idea of “trapping” anything.
Not only pet hamsters and fireflies,
but inanimate items as well.
I’m not exactly sure if slices of cheddar can make any decisions on their own — or where they would go if they could — but who am I to stand in the way of their cheesy dreams?
The older I get, the more I dread seeing lobsters in tanks or rabbits in hutches or birds in cages.
It feels wrong to tie a boat to a dock, just in case it would prefer to float away.
I can’t even bring myself to secure my tomato plants on those wire ring thingies and tell the tomatoes where to grow.
As a kid, I was a sucker for movies like Born Free and, later with my kids, Free Willy — any story which involved releasing a captive being, and giving them the freedom to find their way back to their true home.
Likewise, I’ve always felt dogs & cats — turtles, ferrets, guinea pigs, and all domestic animals — should be allowed to roam around freely a bit everyday. Just in case they’d rather hit the road and live somewhere else… even though it would crush me if mine did.
Years ago, I took our 3 month-old lab, China, on her first official puppy walk. Our house was a half mile from a lovely field by the Merrimack River. I let China off the leash in the field as I began the process of allowing her to feel free.
I kept a close eye on her as she sniffed along the shoreline and moved between the reeds. Suddenly, I lost sight of her tail. I walked over and peeked between the bushes, but no sign of her. Not even the tinkling sound of her new tags on her tiny puppy collar.
My heart now pounding, I kicked off my sneakers and waded into the cold water to search up and down the river, but the surface was still. I ran up the grassy bank and through the neighborhood, clapping and calling her name, not sure she even recognized her name yet.
After frantically scouring the neighborhood, I knew I needed help and ran back to our house.
To my surprise and enormous relief, little China was curled up in our front yard, sound asleep.
She’d found her way back to her true home.
(the real China
This would include almost anything from mayonnaise jars to the bureau drawer and even the dog’s collar.
You may assume it’s laziness on my part, but it isn’t. The problem is I loathe the idea of “trapping” anything.
Not only pet hamsters and fireflies,
but inanimate items as well.
I’m not exactly sure if slices of cheddar can make any decisions on their own — or where they would go if they could — but who am I to stand in the way of their cheesy dreams?
The older I get, the more I dread seeing lobsters in tanks or rabbits in hutches or birds in cages.
It feels wrong to tie a boat to a dock, just in case it would prefer to float away.
I can’t even bring myself to secure my tomato plants on those wire ring thingies and tell the tomatoes where to grow.
As a kid, I was a sucker for movies like Born Free and, later with my kids, Free Willy — any story which involved releasing a captive being, and giving them the freedom to find their way back to their true home.
Likewise, I’ve always felt dogs & cats — turtles, ferrets, guinea pigs, and all domestic animals — should be allowed to roam around freely a bit everyday. Just in case they’d rather hit the road and live somewhere else… even though it would crush me if mine did.
Years ago, I took our 3 month-old lab, China, on her first official puppy walk. Our house was a half mile from a lovely field by the Merrimack River. I let China off the leash in the field as I began the process of allowing her to feel free.
I kept a close eye on her as she sniffed along the shoreline and moved between the reeds. Suddenly, I lost sight of her tail. I walked over and peeked between the bushes, but no sign of her. Not even the tinkling sound of her new tags on her tiny puppy collar.
My heart now pounding, I kicked off my sneakers and waded into the cold water to search up and down the river, but the surface was still. I ran up the grassy bank and through the neighborhood, clapping and calling her name, not sure she even recognized her name yet.
After frantically scouring the neighborhood, I knew I needed help and ran back to our house.
To my surprise and enormous relief, little China was curled up in our front yard, sound asleep.
She’d found her way back to her true home.
(the real China
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