Animal rights protection groups… please forgive!

I must confess we’ve been poaching in the local park, me, Ta and Ra. It’s not the most discreet of places to go poaching but, hey, Paris is a big town with lots of parks but few isolated green spots. This is a gorgeous park with Rose gardens to rival those of the kings. It’s a lovely place to walk and explore the fancy names given to roses. It’s as if gardeners curl up inside the rose petals and sleep overnight amongst their softness before they name them. There’s no other way they could come up with such names. Now of course it’s totally out of the question to pick a rose. I wouldn’t dare touch a single petal although we smell each and every one religiously. However the ponds had such wildlife worth exploring! It was just too tempting to resist. We decided to adopt a tiny, rather insignificant portion of the luxurious pond fauna and take it home for keeps. We are now the proud owners of a small tadpole water farm. I say we, but I really mean Ta, as she, the impassioned animal lover, immediately declared them hers, all hers forever. She reasoned quite seriously that it was obvious they were hers because she feeds them and besides, they’re all girls. I asked her how she knew they were girls and she replied in a tone that allowed no discussion on the matter, as if I were the dullest mother on Earth, “Well they all have girls names now don’t they?” And then she went over the name list slowly, Fifi, Rose, Violetta, and others, pointing out each one specifically to make sure I understood well who was who. I humbly agreed that if they all had girls names they must indeed be girls. So Ta has been tending to the tiny tadpole farm for a couple of weeks now and just the other day, to her delight, she noticed the little creatures had sprung legs, four tiny little legs squiggling through the water with the tail rudder steering along the way. The sprouting of legs has prompted Ta to take a more active participation in the rearing of her little pets. After all, they’ve entered into the four-legged-animal category which puts them up there with dogs and cats as playmates as far as she’s concerned. So the past few days have been full of adventure for our tadpole guests. Ta has taken one out for a walk on her hand, strolling around the living room to show to all and sundry. To Ta’s dismay, the eager little creature unfortunately decided to do a flying leap onto the floor. Ta is positive she isn’t injured of course because of the presence of the legs. Legs are for jumping, aren’t they? Ra was scandalized that Ta had surely murdered the innocent creature. To which Ta’s eyes filled with tears as she adamantly denied, though obviously remained concerned about the well-being of her new pet. I’m happy to say that Fifi has survived and doesn’t seem too traumatized by her amazing free-fall. But the tadpole acrobatics don’t end here. Ta has taken an avid interest in educating her new friends, apparently preparing them for the tadpole olympics of 2012. I came home yesterday to a terribly excited Ta claiming proudly that she had put her tadpoles on her barbie slide and they absolutely adored it! It’s a virtual tadpole Disneyland now. And I must say they do seem to not only be alive and well, but thriving from the devoted attention. I did share these antics with F who smiled almost as much as I had, and slyly asked Ta how her little friends were faring. To which Ta proudly announced, “They’re doing great! I play with them all the time.”

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About wilhelminatunnels

Yes.
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