Sloth down!

The other day, Miguel and Chiza were working up by the front gate, clearing brush and other stuff up from the driveway and further back into the jungle (more on that later).

I was walking by the front of the house on the way to the laundry room, when I saw Miguel waving and holding up a critter. At first, I thought it was a dog, and cringed a bit at adding another pooch to the menagerie. However, it was a young sloth (three-toed) that had fallen out of a tree. I went up to the gate and the little bugger was hunkered down on the driveway, clearly bewildered (even more so than its normal state) about being surrounded by three fellows who were ooh-ing and aah-ing over it. There were bugs flitting in and out of its face, though the little fellow didn't mind that; it was the goofy humans that upset the fellow.

To watch a sloth in a tree is sort of like an interpretative dance; for the most part graceful and forceful, though not-so interesting to watch at times, as it's just so doggone slow and deliberate.

To see a sloth on the ground, out of its element, is like watching Pauly Shore bust a move in MC-Hammer pants, but at 1/100th of the real speed: painful.

The young sloth's mother wasn't to be found until we had already put the youngster back into a tree. She was about six trees over, and by the time we spotted her, the little tyke was well on his way up into the tree and out of our reach.