Look, living ahimsa is not always easy, convenient, or satisfying. To me, that is, I speak for myself only. I drive a car. I buy products that come in too much packaging. I eat steak. And before I start bragging about how my steak is OK because it is venison steak, let me just get on with my little story.

Yesterday my husband brought home a baby gopher tortoise he had found in the middle of a busy in-town street. Its carapace was 2-3 inches long. Couldn't be more than a few weeks old. Its sweet wrinkly skin was a bright yellow. Its eyes were like tiny lustrous black beads. Cutest of all were its little gopher-like claws. How in the sam hell any gopher tortoises are surviving and breeding just off one of Pensacola's busiest streets is beyond me.

My husband knows I have a soft spot for animals that get themselves into the predicament of mistaking a paved road for a good place to travel. We kept the gopher tortoise in a box overnight and this afternoon we drove an hour north of town to the kind of scenery a tortoise would be proud to call home. Open pasture meeting mixed hardwoods bordering long leaf pine. A rural location, dear to my husband's heart, where his great grandad (and my son's namesake) used to have a homestead. There we unceremoniously released said baby reptile into yon wilderness to live a long, burrowing life.

Read in voice of credit card commercial guy:

Relocating baby gopher tortoise to a safe habitat: two hours of driving; 5 gallons of gas; one stop to nurse a teething baby; large order of fries; eleventy one rounds of "Shoefly, don't bother me."

Great big dose of juicy, non-harming goodness: priceless.