FRICK AND FRACK
by Stuart Swersie
(August 1996)
I
watched my neighbor pass my house the other day, her leashed dog in one hand, a
plastic bag in the other. It was raining and she somehow managed an umbrella,
too, as she dodged the forming puddles. She did not look too happy although I
did notice a triumphant smile when she later maneuvered homeward, plastic bag
full, the mark of a successful dog walk. As I do not own a dog I have no idea
what she ultimately does with this fetid collection. I assume it goes into the
same container as radioactive waste. I can't picture it otherwise. There just is
not an aftermarket that I can imagine for this type of product.
Being retired, I have lots of room in my life for a pet. However, I detest
walking a dog, don't think cats destroying furniture are cute, and probably
would go crazy tinkering with a tank full of tropical fish. Explaining this to
the owner of our local pet shop he came up with the perfect solution. And so
Frick and Frack became part of our household.
Two little
green turtles, a modest size playground tank, some rocks, twigs, sand, a dish of
water and a small box of crushed, dried insects and I was officially a pet
owner. Note, no plastic bags. Just freshen up the playground periodically in the
comfort of your kitchen, add a few dashes of new sand, and the turtles are happy
and I'm happy.
Boring, you say. Hardly! Do you know you
can teach those critters to roll-over? Just place them on their backs and watch.
Frack got it right the first time he tried. I had to help Frick for about a week
until he figured it out. He was younger and more delicate than Frack but
maturing quickly. "Go fetch" is coming along well. I put a bit of
leafy lettuce at one end of the tank, Frick and Frack at the other and yell
"fetch." When I let them go they run right to the lettuce. This often
takes several hours as their concept of speed is not the same as ours. There was
one glitch that developed when I was teaching them to "play dead."
Frick put his heart and soul into it and when I checked Monday he still had not
recovered. Frick II, his successor, is a fast study, knows his limitations, and
shows promise in performing this trick.
I spend several
hours each week grooming the boys. I wash them in warm sudsy water being careful
to avoid their eyes. I found an old can of Turtle Wax in the garage and, believe
me, they sparkle when I'm done.
You are aware that they
require no license, no shots, they don't shed all over the house, they never
bark, hiss or mark their territory, and they never bother the neighbors. When I
go away for a day or two, the little rascals are right where I left them, hale,
hearty, and glad to see me again.
There really is
something to this pet ownership thing. It's an awesome responsibility bit I'm
learning to cope with it. Thanks to Frick and Frack, retirement will never be
the same.