There are some amazing stories of
pets finding their way home after long absences. But, an octopus?
Octopi are intelligent, curious
creatures. They are so intelligent that aquarium keepers use an enrichment
manual to help ward off boredom for octopi in captivity. Aquarium octopi have
toys like Mr. Potato Head and Lego, and some can solve puzzles that have a
series of locks and keys.
A couple of years ago, an octopus
named Inky got himself caught up in a crayfish pot and was in bad shape when a
New Zealand aquarium received him. But, despite the aquarium’s tender care and advanced
education program, it seems Inky had no intention of staying forever.
Whether Inky was more inquisitive
and restless than other octopi, he was wily enough to escape. I can imagine him
plotting his jailbreak like the fish in Finding Nemo, the tale of a clown fish that gets captured, put in a tank, and makes
it back to the ocean to be reunited with his father.
Inky’s opportunity for escape
came one night a couple of months ago when someone failed to secure his tank
properly. Under cover of darkness,
he made his slippery exit from the tank, crept across the floor and squeezed
his supple rugby sized body into a 6” floor drain. Good thing the drain led to
the ocean.
We can explain Inky’s daring and
successful escape using scientific knowledge and common sense. A number of factors coalesced in his
favour. An unsecured tank, no keepers in sight, a wet floor, a drain leading to
the ocean, an intelligent, curious creature whose body is perfect for Houdini
maneuvers converged in a perfect storm. But I prefer to think of Inky’s escape
in terms of mystery.
Seeing Inky's escape as allegory
For Inky, the ocean was home. It
was where he belonged. While the aquarium restored him to health, provided for
his physical needs in a safe environment, and stimulated his brain, Inky was
restless. His tank mimicked the
ocean, but was not the ocean. Ultimately, enrichment activities with intriguing
toys were a poor substitute for life on the reef; he was itching to leave the
ivory tower of the aquarium and try out his new skills in the real world. Perhaps something of a metaphysical
nature, something that eludes our understanding, fuelled Inky’s desire to
escape. Perhaps Inky had an intuition of divinity and his place in creation that
compelled him to make a break for the ocean.
So while media reports of Inky’s
escape focused on the intelligence of octopi, I saw allegory in the story about
Inky. Inky’s restlessness points
to the restlessness of the human spirit of which we are often oblivious. Like Inky, we are not satisfied
with the place we inhabit. While crayfish pots draw us in and capture us, they
cannot hold us for long. Nor can
the finest tanks and toys stave off our dissatisfaction. They are merely distractions from our
spiritual longing.
So, as we attempt to transcend our traps and tanks, we
spread our tentacles in search of drains that may lead nowhere. We wind up
following the wrong gods home.
