Last year on 4th of May, G brought home a tortoise given by a friend. With a life expectancy of 80 years, we laughed and joked that this would be our heirloom to our grandchildren. This was the time when we decided for the baby. We expected him to outlive us, just not so soon.
We named him Popcorn. He was too small and would keep hiding under the sofas or any other piece of furniture or dark corner he could find. G made a small grass patch for him in our balcony. We brought cement blocks, mud and turf grass to make it. He cemented the blocks together, shoveled the mud in, put on the turf and watered it. A perfect home for our perfect pet. Yet, he would climb down from the patch and waddle all the way inside to hide under the furniture again. It was a common sight to see us on all fours on the floor, looking under everything to track him down. Often G’d have to pick up the furniture while I reached under to get Popcorn out of some wedge he’s have gotten stuck in.
Since G’s death, even Popcorn stopped his disappearing act. He behaved well and stuck to his designated place at least till a few days ago. And then he vanished. We looked for him everywhere, but couldn’t find him. On the 3rd day of searching I broke down. It was incomprehensible that with everything else i’ve lost Popcorn too! Even if we found him in a few days I was sure he’d just starve to death. As I was crying over it in my room I called to G, and asked him to come and find him now as he did earlier.
And then I don’t know why, I went to the balcony and looked again – and there he was, in the first place I looked – hiding behind a pair of G’s shoes. I almost cried again with relief and the knowledge that G is still watching over me and will come to help when I call.