Superman Saves the Salamander

Now, as a disclaimer, please do NOT freak out at the following picture and know, deep down inside your little ol’ hearts, that I would NEVER condone ANY harm being done to one of the animal (or in this case reptile) species.  …  Well, aside from the nine mouse traps set in the house.  …  And then there was the hiring of the sharpshooter for the gopher/chipmunk patrol.  …  But that’s a different story for a different day and we can discuss all of that at a later time.

SO…back to the super heroics of the super hero of the house:

I didn’t capture the release as that cute little tiger salamander high-tailed it into the dirt/leaves in my nonexistent flower garden (which I have been needing to write about in a cathartic way, but just haven’t been able to deal with the grief yet).

(NO SALAMANDERS WERE HARMED IN ANY WAY DURING THE PHOTO SHOOT FOR THIS BLOG.)

This actually happened before we left on the National Lampoon vacation, but one had to contend with veterinary patients and human patients and what not, so the literary hat had to be hung up for a bit.  I do apologize.

So…early one morning, when Superman was actually still in the house when I woke up, I noticed the little, annoying, pain-in-my-behind rodent that has singlehandedly, SINGLEHANDEDLY, destroyed my gorgeous flower garden, chewing away at one of the last pieces of greenery in evidence.  But, I digress.

So I called over Mr. Man’s Man a.k.a. Superman to show him the elusive little bastard (sorry, can’t help myself–the irritation with the rodent runs deep) and wondered if perhaps he could do something about it.  Meaning could he somehow capture the elusive, destructive rodent and take it somewhere far, far away.  (Now that the garden is destroyed…but it would make me feel better..again, I digress.)  As we were watching the little rodent stick his nose up and throw out another mouthful of dirt from below, himself saw a little movement (he has VERY good eyes…of course he does you say…he’s Superman) to the side.  This is through the window mind you.  I tried to capture a picture of the rodent as he poked his head up but it was through the window and the little dude was too fast for my digital camera–that whole amateur photographer thingy.  So anyway, Mr. Man’s Man headed out to the porch, thus scaring away the rodent (which was a good thing, but I really did need to capture him, dead or alive) and proceeded to tell me it was a little salamander and he didn’t look so good.  Seems the rodent had dislodged him from his lodge, probably tossing him up with the dirt.  The little dude (the salamander) probably didn’t know what hit him.   So I, being all Lois Lane-y, pleaded with Superman to save him.  And Superman being Superman picked up the tiny tiger salamander and placed him ever so gently in some cool dirt/leaves over to the side of the rodent’s destruction.  I did make him stop mid-transfer to capture the moment for posterity’s sake (whatever that means, as it is truly such an odd phrase).  And thus, the photo above of a tiny tiger salamander hanging upside down by his tail. 

I am very happy to say that after he was ever-so-gently placed into his new surroundings, he perked right up and started sauntering away. 

Yeah Superman!! 

And yes, I do see the hypocrisy in all of this.  The nine mouse traps in the house.  The gopher patrol.  Yet I’ll beg and plead for Superman to save a tiny tiger salamander, displaced from his home.  It’s a very schizophrenic existence  here…just one of the things helping to make me crazy, nutso, off-my-rocker, insanely mad!!

About madranchwife

Mother, Mad Ranchwife(as in--at times-- crazy, nutso, loco, off-my-rocker insane), Veterinarian, Physical Therapist, "Liberal, pinko, gay-loving, Subaru-driving Socialist" (as I've been called), proud to be a totally tree-huggin', climate change believin', granola girl environmentalist, ObamaGirl, Pro-Choice (don't even get me started here...), and in my younger days a feminist vegetarian as a result of time spent at CU Boulder (this lasted approximately 14 months, until all the Jimmy Buffett I was listening to caused me to crave a cheeseburger). Now I just get pleasure out of swimming against the stream and ruffling a few feathers here in the wild west state of Wyoming!
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