A Brighter Tomorrow: My Journey with Julie

But the plastic is too tough to cut with our bare hands. Julie rummages in her pockets and pulls out a gum wrapper, a happy face sticker, and a Kennedy half dollar, like the one I found in the window seat. That’s it! I dig into my pocket and find the peace-sign earring, the quarter, the flower-power necklace charm from Gladrags, and finally the nail clipper from the window seat treasures.

I twist it open and use it to cut away the band around the otter’s neck, then hand the clipper to Julie so she can snip the band at his feet. He’s free, but he seems weak, and he lies there in the water as if exhausted. Julie grabs a piece of driftwood and uses it to steady him as the waves roll in. The otter clings to it, in no hurry to swim off into open water.

Finally, two women come running over, their name tags reading Amy and Paula. Julie and I introduce ourselves and explain what happened while Amy pulls on rubber gloves and lifts the baby otter out of the water.

Paula shakes her head at the sight of the plastic rings, wishing aloud that people wouldn’t litter this way. She says things like this can be disastrous for wildlife.

Amy checks the otter for other injuries and reports he doesn’t have any cuts and seems well-fed, but he’s probably chilled. She tells Julie and me it looks like he got separated from his mother, and it’s a good thing we found him when we did. She’s not sure how much longer he would have lasted once the tide came in.

Amy sets the baby otter in Paula’s arms, and Paula wraps him carefully in a towel. Paula says it was smart of us to send someone for help. We did a real deed of kindness for the little pup.

We gaze down at him as he blinks his dark eyes and twitches his nose. He’s so cute. As he warms up, he starts to make tiny whistles and yelps, and I say he sounds so squeaky. Julie giggles and declares his name should be Squeaky.

Amy reminds us that Squeaky is a wild animal, and we can’t let him get too used to humans since he needs to return to his natural habitat as soon as possible. Julie and I understand. As much as we’d like more time with the pup, we know the sooner he gets back to the ocean, the better. We follow Paula and Amy to a clear spot on the beach where Squeaky can test his strength in the water.

Paula sets the towel down at the water’s edge and Amy unwraps it to let Squeaky reenter the water at will. When the next wave rolls in, Squeaky seems hesitant to dive in. He sniffs the air and lets out a squeal.

Julie asks if he’s scared and Paula says he might be. But that squeal was a call to his mother. If she responds, he’ll feel more confident about getting back in the water. Squeaky squeals again, and we wait impatiently for his mother’s response.

Then we hear it: an urgent bark from the water a distance away. Paula pulls out her binoculars and trains them on the water, scanning the waves for an adult otter. Nothing happens at first, then Squeaky stretches his neck out and cries again.

Then Paula says she can see a head bobbing in the waves. Julie and I gasp, and Paula hands us the binoculars so we can take turns peering through to see the otter, calling to her pup as the waves send her floating up and down.

Squeaky wiggles and squirms off the towel, using his back legs and tail to scoot toward the water and push forward into the surf. Screeches and squawks fill the air as mother and baby call back and forth. As he dives in, another wave pushes him back onto the sand, and Julie asks if he’s strong enough to break through the waves to reach his mama. Amy hopes so. If not, we’re here to help.

As the waves pull back, Squeaky tries again, swimming past the first break and then the second. Julie and I cheer him on, jumping up and down as we watch in amazement. We take turns with Paula’s binoculars, watching as Squeaky greets and nuzzles his mother, until she’s floating on her back with him nestled against her chest. We wave goodbye, missing him already.

Silent and content, we pick up our garbage bags and head back to the parking lot. Walking across the beach, we see what a difference we and the other volunteers have made; it looks like an entirely different beach from the one we arrived at a few hours ago. I grin at Julie and slip off my shoes, and she does the same. Seagulls soar overhead, squawking to one another before they alight along the shore.

When I get home, I’m going to take Zack to Ocean Beach and tell him how important it is to keep it clean, so animals can have a safe place to live and people can keep enjoying the beach fifty years from now.