Afternoon Delight

There are several dangers associated with jogging alongside a puppy. Most notably, puppies are unpredictable and also complete chickenshits. I learned all of this the hard way last week when a ferocious window dog assailed my jogging partner Gracie and I with a series of ferocious window barks and grunts. Consequently, and to make a short story shorter, I made a large donation of my leg and hand flesh to a sunny sidewalk in front of ferocious window dog's house.

The fall and related injuries have precluded me from doing a number of things, some good (dishes, manual labor) and some bad (high-fiving, showering). Today, a little over a week from the incident, I decided to tempt fate, get back in the saddle, and take Gracie for another jog.

It was approximately 470,000 degrees outside today so while I was getting my cardio on, I began to feel extremely guilty about having dragged the pup along. I adjusted my route so she could take a dip in what locals creatively call The Basin.

The Basin is an estuary and home to all sorts of estuarine animals. While Gracie was frolicking in the water with her stick and presumably having the time of her life, I happened upon a small horseshoe crab nestled into the wet sand.

Horseshoe crabs both fascinate and terrify me. You don't have to look around too hard to notice that there is not a lot else on the planet that looks like a horseshoe crab. They predate dinosaurs by, like, a lot, and pretty much make all other species look bad because they're so well-adapted. They essentially kick ass at existing.

Their defense against predators is basically just to be a horseshoe crab. From above, they resemble a rock with a long, spiky tail (not used for spiking, used for righting themselves and steering, although I'd totally spike the hell out of something if I had that tail) and who wants to mess with, let alone eat that?

This particular horseshoe crab was small. Too small, I thought, to be laying its eggs on the shore. I was fairly certain they didn't just kick it on the beach unless they were laying eggs. I was nonplussed, and, as the tide ebbed, my concern for this creature was growing.

I very logically decided to engage HSC in a dialogue.

Excuse me, little horseshoe crab, do you need some help getting back into the water?

I felt as though I was saddled with the responsibility of this animal's life, his very existence hung in the balance, and I was the only one who could tip the scale in his favor. I decided that this HSC would not perish ... not on my watch.

Mustering as much courage as I could, I walked cautiously up behind the (still very much harmless) creature and did the equivalent of tapping him on the shoulder.

Tap ... tap.

Hi. You might remember me, I was just here a few minutes ago. It looks like you're stuck, and possibly too infirm to propel yourself back into the water, so what I was thinking was that I'd go ahead and pick you up and just plop you back in the water so we can all go back to our days. Cool?

I assumed he was on board, peered at him for what felt like forever, and went for it. I put one finger underneath the front of his little horseshoe head, and another on his side. He apparently became aware of my presence at this point because he began squirming frenetically back and forth, wiggling his way further into the sand. Naturally, I let out a high-pitched squeal and ran ten or so steps away without taking my eyes off him, as if he were going to spring into action and assault me like Bowser from Super Mario Brothers.

I cursed myself for not anticipating this. Of course HSC was going to try to move. He didn't know I was trying to help. From a (very) safe distance, I queried:

So, was that, like, an evasive measure because you think I'm a predator? Ideally, if you were trying to escape would you have preferred to have ended in the water? I'm still just trying to assess what your level of helplessness is at this point.

I grabbed a stick, since I was now resolved to the fact that there was no way I was touching HSC again. I plunged it into the wet sand below him, thinking I would gently lift and maneuver him to the water (unless he tried anything funny, because then he was getting catapulted). To my surprise, I struck something. I started to uncover the sand and saw what appeared to be a rock with a ... long, spiky tail.

*GASP!* Oh my god, they're mating! They're mating, Gracie! Did you know that?! This is incredibly awkward!

Sheepishly, I covered the bottom one back up, placed a couple of nice-looking shells around them (to enhance the mood) and offered my sincerest apologies to HSC.

On my way out, I realized that I should have known that creatures with that kind of shelf life on this crazy planet probably don't need my help. I took one last look over my shoulder and was fairly certain I saw HSC wink at me.