I've been watching the new David Attenborough series, Life In Cold Blood. It has been pretty good-- lots of frogs and salamanders. I got a bit sad watching it last night though, as I started thinking about the two axolotls I had when I was a teenager. I did not treat them very well.To be honest, they used to frustrate me a lot. You couldn't just sprinkle food into their tank, you had to stick your whole arm in to the cold, murky water, and hand feed them this tablet thing. That got old after about a week.
They were also very jumpy. As soon as the tablet touched their lips, they would get such a surprise, freak out and sometimes flip themselves all the way out of the tank, and onto the carpet of my room. I would then frantically try and rescue them, as they wriggled and grubbed under my bed, gathering fluff and dust as they went, flipping and flopping. Feeding time was very stressful for all of us. After a while, there was only one left, as the other had gone carpet exploring one too many times.
What happened next, I am not proud of, but still, the tale must be told. I got very tired of my one remaining axolotl. I was forever rescuing him, or sticking my arm into green, algae-filled water to feed him. I came to resent him.
One dark day, the clouds were still, and the birds had stopped singing. The mood was sombre, as I set of into the bush, with my dark little secret, hidden in an ice cream container. Farther and farther I walked, through hill and gully, deep into the undergrowth, searching for a creek. If not a creek, at least a pond. On I trekked. No creek. No pond.
As time marched on, my expectations lowered. Maybe a pool. Or a puddle. More walking. No water. Every man must once in his life face the darkness that is in his own soul, and stare face to face with the monster that he sees. Onto a cold, hard, very dry rock, I placed this creature, this being that had depended on me. Away I turned, and with out looking back, I ran. Ran like I had never run. Like a man runs from the dark things that course through his blood from the very core of himself.
And friends, I stand before you today, naked, ashamed, and with my hands still stained with the bloodguilt of a dark childhood. Out! Out! Damned spot!!
6 comments:
Its a dark, dark day when you come to know that one of your best mates is a murderer.......
I had such a laugh at this post, despite the fact that I was once a conservation biologist ...
Oh Ben, that was a wonderful story LOL. Of course it's not true though is it. It's not...is it? No, it couldn't possibly be. Surely you wouldn't have done something like that. Surely not.
Pedz-- Have you ever swatted a fly? Sprayed a cockroach? Is there a ranking in the value of life? Is one creature worth more than another? I implore you, cast the stone if you see in the mirror a man without blemish. Is was less a case of murder, and more a case of if you love someone set them free...on a rock.
Ali-- Perhaps I was just giving him the chance to evolve, to become a salamander and reach his full potential. Was this not in it's own unique way, conservation? (maybe leave that question rhetorical)
Trish-- If it makes you feel better, think of it as a story, a parable of sorts-- an instructive tale to teach children. But I am what I am.
As far as I can remember you only had one axolotyl. You told me you let it gi in some water !!
Hi dad-- no, I definately had two. I had a dark brownish black one, which was the first to go, and then the yellow one who I put in "water".
Post a Comment