Yesterday, while sitting on the edge of the pool, I saw a grasshopper struggling to stay afloat in the water. First, since Mr. Sturm was closer, I asked him to remove it. When it became clear that Mr. Sturm would have no part of playing lifeguard to the insects I spotted in the pool, I went in to get it myself.
I easily scooped out the little grasshopper, letting the excess pool water drip out from between my fingers. Then, I set the little guy on the edge of the pool, and verbally instructed him to hop away. Mr. Sturm said that I needed to give him a moment to dry off before he could hop, but I was determined this grasshopper would not hop right back into the pool the moment I turned my back. Thinking I was acting in the best interest of the grasshopper, I started tapping the ground behind the grasshopper, causing him to hop, hop, hop towards the woods. Once out of my arm's reach, I decided my work was done, and smiled at this grasshopper, certain it was grateful I had helped save its life.
Then, a bird swooped through the air, and, without even stopping to touch the ground, grabbed the little grasshopper and flew away, probably to devour him headfirst. Needless to say, my self-satisfied grin from saving the grasshopper turned to a jaw-dropped, "Wha-at? Whoa! Did you see that?"
Later, I rescued a beetle. My nervous eyes scoured the sky as the beetle scuttled off, but, smaller and perhaps a bit smarter, the beetle hid in the cracks between the bricks.
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