When I was a kid growing up in Brooklyn, a hundred years ago, for as long as I could remember there was a box turtle living in our yard. We were never allowed to feed it. My Dad said it was wild, and free and didn't want it to become dependent on us. We knew winter was on it's was when my Dad raked all the leaves into a pile in the back of the yard, just in case Frank (named after our Uncle who we thought he looked like) needed a place to sleep. Then we didn't see Frank until the Spring. We couldn't wait to see which one of us saw Frank first. My Dad had a big vegetable garden, many fruit trees, and loads of compost which he made in the back of our yard, which was filled with bugs. (so much for Frank not being dependent on us) If any fruit fell, and we didn't pick it Dad would say "leave it for Frank". The same with the vegetables. We always saw him munching on a tomato, or a fig, or an apricot. We also had a big strawberry patch where you could always find Frank taking a nap. The only thing my Dad did was always keep a really big dish filled with water in case Frank needed a bath or a drink. When I got married I was 22, and Frank was still there. As the years passed I used to bring my kids there to see that old boxie. He was never sick as far as we could tell. When my parents died, my sister took over the house, and there was no more vegetables. Frank left...moved into the yard next door, and now and then my sister saw the new neighbors giving him a plate of dog food. At least we think it was Frank. Life was so easy then..no vets...no soaking...just fun, and a healthy old boxie. Just thought you'd enjoy some of my memories.

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