Gothridge, the caterpillar

Today our little family loaded into our little car and took a little drive up the canyon. We were headed to the reservoir where we intended to spend an hour or so skipping rocks. But, as it turns out, it costs five dollars to take the road that leads to the water--a price we were actually willing to pay. (Avoiding a derailment of plans and a disappointed Atrain is definitely worth five bucks). However, it also turns out that the little man in the ridiculous government toll booth didn't have change for a ten. Our brains began buzzing for alternative family entertainment. And, though nothing could top rock skipping, chucking rocks off a lookout point was the next best option--and that's where we met Gothridge.

His little furry body was expanding and contracting like an accordion as his sixteen suction cup legs shuttled across the pebbles on the ridge. I spotted him out of the corner of my eye as Atrain and I backed away from the edge-a squatty little black and rust colored caterpillar sporting an assortment of long grey whiskers. He was cute. So cute, in fact, that I lunged toward it and put my hand forth as a pedestal to crawl up on. And, he did.

Atrain wasn't sure what to think. He was a little aghast by my spontaneous love for the little bug--something that surely doesn't happen often when I encounter odd creatures. But, he was certainly interested as the little caterpillar slinked across my hands. "Do you want to hold it? " I asked. "No," he replied quickly." "Well, should we let it go?" I asked. "Yes, up by the colored leaves," said Atrain. So, we walked a little ways and found a nice place to bid my little bug buddy goodbye. I let him down on the ground, and Atrain and I continued on our way to find a few good rocks for chucking off the mountain side.

I headed up the trail, but Atrain planted his feet near the caterpillar's farewell point. A crinkled look of confusion contorted his face. "Let's get it back!" Atrain said, his voice wavering with emotion. Apparently Atrain's connection to the little bug ran deeper than he anticipated. Sometimes you don't realize how much you like something until it's gone. "OK!" I responded, excitedly. And, we scanned the perimeter of the vicinity. Sure enough, within a few seconds we found our little caterpillar wandering near a few fallen leaves. "Let's find him a home," I said as I picked him up.

Back at the car lied an empty blue water bottle. We filled it with a couple of twigs and a few leaves, then let the little caterpillar climb inside. He looked reasonably content with his new blue surroundings, but I wouldn't know how to tell if he wasn't, either. Atrain sure thought the crawling little bug was happy. "He's climbing up the side!" Atrain said, giggling with glee as he watched the bug's accordion legs work its way up the plastic. Baby J just reached and reached from the husband's arms, itching to take a whack at the blue container everyone seemed so interested in. "I don't think we should keep it," said the husband, "it's not good to take him out of his surroundings...we might kill it." "Really," I replied. "This coming from a man who kills dear every year?" I poked at him. He gave me a defeated smile, then agreed to take our new "pet" home.

Once we were all buckled into the car and headed back down the canyon, Atrain held the blue water bottle on his lap, admiring his new little friend. "It's ok, don't be scared," he said in a high pitched voice as he talked to the caterpillar. "What do you want to name him," I asked. Atrain thought for a few moments, then said, "Gothridge." I shot a surprised smile at the husband, then replied, "Gothridge, huh. That's a good name. Where did you hear that?" Atrain thought again, and then said, "I don't know, he's just Gothridge." "Good name," I repeated approvingly. I sure hope we don't kill him too soon.