Speedy the tortoise

 

Any animal psychologists out there?

We have a tortoise which the family named Speedy Gonzales. We also have a rabbit, a cat and a dog as well as a number of fishes in the pond in the garden.

Suddenly and quite recently there has been a marked difference in behaviour in Gonzales the tortoise. Usually he sits or sleeps sedately in his box, or chews on a lettuce leaf for ages and does nothing else. But suddenly, perhaps inspired by our dog, his behaviour has changed.

As soon as I get home he comes rushing to me and jumps up high from the ground trying to reach my chest. He runs round in circles and jumps up again and again until I stoop down and pick him up. 

When I do so he licks my face happily and wags his little tail excitedly. It's very unusual behaviour for a tortoise, but you should see his tail wagging left and right as his tiny tongue attempts to kiss me. 

I guess it's his way of showing me his affection. It's like humans I suspect. Have you never been so excited to meet someone you like that you jumped on them and licked their face? No ... perhaps not.

When I'm out in the garden exercising our dog by throwing a ball the tortoise runs as fast as it can to fetch it before the dog does. Of course, the ball is too big for Gonzales' tiny mouth, so the tortoise let's the dog pick up the ball and then he bites the dog's tail gently so he could be dragged all the way back to me so we can start the game all over again.

Gonzales now insists on going out for walks with the dog. I have made a tiny collar which I place round his neck and attach it to a lead and take both creatures out together. I must say, for a tortoise he certainly keeps up the pace with the dog. He even, every now and then, lifts up his back leg like the dog, and pretends to do his business by a tree. The problem here is that sometimes he loses his balance and falls over on his back and is unable to get up again. He rolls backwards and forwards gaining momentum every time in order to finally tip over to his normal upright position. Either that, or the dog rolls him over with his nose.

I don't know how long Gonzales' behaviour will last. The vet had no explanation to offer and suggested it was "acquired transferable behaviour", whatever that means.

I wonder, have any of you readers experienced such unusual behaviour in your pets? Have you for example ever had a parrot trying to learn to swim? Or a guinea pig or hamster clucking like a chicken? Or any other similar uncharacteristic behaviour?

I had a neighbour once who liked to imitate birds. She ate worms. But that's another story!

The Hare, The Tortoise, And Me!

 

We have a rabbit. He lives in a hutch in the garden but he is let out every now and then under supervision. He is not allowed in the house of course, unless he ever enters the kitchen where there are plenty of pots and pans to accommodate him. I have often dreamt of having him in a rabbit pie, or with gravy and potatoes; but like Elmer Fudd chasing Bugs Bunny I don't think I'll ever have that rabbit for a meal. The family say he is a pet and they love feeding him and generally looking after him.

The other day I opened the front door and found a box at my feet with a tortoise in it. I looked left and right ... and saw nothing unusual. Why do people look left and right when something like this happens? What was I expecting to see? Someone running away after leaving the box on my doorstep? For all I know the box may have been there for ages and whoever placed it there is now long gone to another Continent.

I picked it up and asked the family, "Has anyone ordered a tortoise from the Internet?"

I didn't know you could buy such things on-line; but they all denied any responsibility. All they said is, "Can we keep him? He'll make a nice friend for Choochoo the rabbit."

Who ever heard of a rabbit called Choochoo? Sounds more like a train to me. Apparently they called him such because of the way his nose moves up and down when he chews on a lettuce leaf.

Anyway, I held the tortoise in my hand and half wondered whether I should phone the Missing Persons Bureau to check whether anyone reported a missing tortoise. I dismissed the idea thinking they'd probably say I'm wasting their time.

Besides, technically speaking, the tortoise was not missing. It did not just decide to go out for a walk and forgot where he lived. He was placed in a box, with a lid on, and the box left at my doorstep. I assumed that the tortoise had not done that to itself; so presumably someone left it here deliberately. Or by accident, mistaking my address for someone else.

I decided that for the time being I'd let him loose in the garden; whilst I sit there to keep an eye on him and searching our recipe book for any meals involving tortoises.

No sooner he was out of the box, Gonzales came out of his shell and started walking towards the end of the garden. I mean ... whoever heard of a tortoise called Gonzales? But I didn't have much say on the matter.

He walked and walked, followed by me to ensure that he doesn't wonder away to the neighbours' gardens. Eventually, walking in a perfectly straight line, he reached the end of the garden after ten minutes or so. Fortunately, he stopped by the pyracantha bushes at the end of my garden.

I was really grateful for his sudden stop because I had no intention of following him inside those bushes. I still have nightmares of the day I fell backwards from a ladder into a bush of these infernal plants; and the humiliation thereafter of having thorns removed from my derriere which looked like a pin cushion by a nurse in hospital. The nurse did not look like a pin cushion ... are you paying attention or not?

So I picked up the tortoise and turned him round a full 180 degrees. To my amazement Gonzales started walking again straight back to where he had come from. I followed him for another ten minutes or so and when he reached the house, I turned him round once again. He walked once more straight towards the pyracantha.

This went on for at least six times or so. Gonzales was intent on walking his own marathon without the incentive of a hare or rabbit named Choochoo chasing him. Up and down the garden he went until I got tired of following him; so I put him in the hutch with the rabbit.

Choochoo and Gonzales have been friends for a couple of weeks now. I've asked around and placed posters enquiring whether anyone has lost a box with a tortoise in it but no one has come forward claiming him. Instead, people look at me furtively and whisper whenever they see me in the street!

Where's My Willie?

 

This morning we had a dilemma on our hands.

My Willie Nelson, went missing. We looked everywhere and could not find it. First, I looked in the obvious place. Not there!

Not in the garden, not in the cupboard, behind the sofa, under the bed, or anywhere in the house; inside or out. Not in the garage, not in the car, or indeed not anywhere. Willie Nelson went missing.

I knew my Willie was not hiding in some orifice or corner somewhere because he is totally claustrophobic. He does not like the dark!

He is the only tortoise I know who gets really stressed about going back into his own shell. He hibernates in winter with his head and legs hanging out of his natural home. He prefers the outdoors. We have to wrap his head in a small scarf we've knitted for him and put his legs in home-made socks to keep him warm.

We've had Willie Nelson for two years and he shares the garden with Don Williams the rabbit and Johnny Cash the hamster.

They often lunch together and have picnics as they wander about always under the watchful eye of someone in case they get through the hedge to the neighbour's garden. 

At night they are put in their cage for safety. 

Willie is always out in the garden early in the morning jumping and running around with his friends Don Williams and Johnny Cash, whilst Dolly Parton and Tammy Wynette watch them from their perch by the window.

I suspect that last night we forgot to put them in their cage. This morning Don Williams and Johnny Cash were there in the garden ready for breakfast; but no Willie Nelson.

We asked Dolly Parton and Tammy Wynette if they'd seen him and they kept repeating, "Pretty Dolly ... Happy Tammy ... Pretty Dolly ... Happy Tammy ..."

Being a tortoise, we did not think Willie Nelson had gone very far. We searched everywhere as already mentioned and we could not find him. 

We printed leaflets with his photo, (the tortoise, not the singer), and we pinned the leaflets to trees and lamp posts in our area. We posted leaflets in neighbours' houses asking them if they'd seen Willie; but to no avail. No one had seen him.

Then this evening he was found. 

He was up a tree in our garden. There he was. Sitting on a branch some twenty feet up from the ground. Totally unperturbed and happy with his surroundings.

How did he get up there? I thought. Tortoises don't usually climb trees do they?
 

More to the point, how do we get him down? It's certainly not something I'd want to do, climbing all the way up there.

Perhaps if we called him down and we all held a large sheet into which he would fall safely? No use. He is as deaf as a deaf bat ... sorry, only simile I could think of on the spur of the moment.

I phoned the pet shop. The man there told me that perhaps he took fright at something he saw and ran up the tree. Now I'll admit that last evening I did venture in the garden with my skin softening and conditioning cream on, and a curler or two in my hair; but that would not have frightened Willie, would it? 

Eventually, a friend who is not afraid of heights came round and brought Willie safely down to terra firma. You should have seen him waggling his little tail and jumping at our legs in delight. I mean Willie Nelson was jumping at our legs, not our friend! Don Williams and Johnny Cash were so happy to see Willie that they chased each other round the garden as they often do when playing whilst Dolly and Tammy sang in unison.

Totally exhausted, we put them in their cage with extra food to celebrate.

We still don't know how Willie got up the tree. Any ideas?