Maurice the Octopus
I have had a number of thought and soul changing experiences with animals. I loved like a family member most of our dogs–especially Winston and Cutie. Constant in their affections, they taught me love and emotions are not limited to human beings. DOG really is GOD spelled backwards. Seeing a great horned owl against the moon in Pennsylvania is an image that will always stay with me. Hand feeding two baby robins from a ruined nest was a bonding experience. I wanted them to remain wild, so I never named them or kept them in the house. Each night I would put them in a short white pine to roost. I could recognize their peeps above the forest cacophony. I was sad when they departed, but happy I helped them to live. From time to time I would see a robin come close and look at me intently. I wondered if that was one of them, or one of their babies coming to check out the legend of the Mother Giant who brought their ancestors from Bay Ridge, Brooklyn and fed them worms, oatmeal and mashed cherries. 
In March 2019 I met Maurice at the Kanaloa Octopus Farm in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii. This aquaculture project began in an effort to help preserve and increase the declining reef octopus populations. A demand for octopus for food and bait has had a severe impact on their numbers. Scientists are trying to learn how to successfully breed octopuses for food and fishing and leave the wild ones alone. They are making progress, but haven’t been successful yet.
Maurice was rescued from a fishing boat where he was about to become bait or dinner. He is now part of the Kanaloa experiment. Visitors to Kanaloa get to interact with the octopuses. We discovered each one has their own individual traits and personalities. Some are curious, shy, grumpy, reclusive, aggressive, clever or playful. I’m sure there are more parts of their character, but those are the ones I observed in my hour at the aquaculture farm. 
After wiggling my fingers in the water to mimic a fish, Maurice came up from the bottom of his tank to investigate. He gently touched my fingers. I gently touched his tentacle. It was very smooth. The encounter reminded me of the fresco painting of Adam and God in the Sistine Chapel. One touch changed everything.
Ever since I met Maurice I cannot eat octopus and would never use them for bait.
