The Walrus

Jack and I made a little field trip tonight...he to wield a pair of pliers, and I to laugh maniacally. Oh, and take pictures, too.

Why there are porcupines here, I'm just not sure. Porcupines like trees, right? Since trees are pretty scarce in this area, you would think porcupines would be, too. But no. Even in areas where there are no trees for miles, you will still find the occasional porky roadkill during the summertime. In the winter they hibernate, but when the chinook comes to town, they wake up ready to party. Or brawl, as the case may be.

Finley and Anika, the poor little dears, have never been up close to a real, live porcupine. Hopefully they won't again, ever. I like to think they learned some valuable lessons.

Tina got Anika's 10 quills out fine by herself, but found Finley rather daunting. More quills, less courage. Much less. She spent most of the time having narrow escapes from getting various body parts impaled. Eyeballs, neck, fingers, and so much more.

Finally, Uncle Jack had to hold Nephew Finley down and let Tina take a turn with the pliers. Never one to discriminate, Finley immediately turned from biting his uncle, to biting the hand that feeds him. Jack covered his eyes, but Finley wasn't fooled. With his keen sense of smell, he could tell when the Hand of Doom drew near.

By the end, 34 natural javelins had been wrenched from the tattered flesh. As soon as the pain was relieved, Finley showed his newfound wisdom by.........

....begging frantically at the front door to be let out and get another shot at the intruder.

Tran-quill-y,

Noni Beth