So why was I so excited about a moaning, awkward, non-tenacious creature like this? To understand my thrill, you must understand something else. My parents had a pet porcupine before I was born. Albert was found as a baby, starving in the garden. My dad, always kind to animals, nursed him back to health with patience and gentleness. In return Albert looked to my dad as his mother. So, having heard those stories from forever, I've always had a special place for the little critters, even though I almost never saw one in the wild when I was growing up. Then, in the days after my dad died, a porcupine hung around the farm. And it reminded me of the goodness and kindness and gentleness in my dad. It also reminded me of the kindness of another Father, whom I believe gave the porcupine as a gift to our family in those most difficult of days. Evidence that even if it was a long time ago, something special and unique and happy happened in our lives... and a wonderful memory was born.
So now, spotting a porcupine gives me a thankful nostalgia, for the father who loved a starving little critter back to life, and another Father who fervently does the same.