Turtle Recall (Eleanor Lamb)

I have a soft spot for hard-shelled reptiles. In the platoon of pets I own, which

includes a dog, a cat, a guinea pig, two fish, and a Zebra Finch, my lowly tortoise is the

creature I find most endearing. He even beat out my beagle.

The need for a tortoise hit me hard one day when I realized that my family’s

collection, although nearing the size of a zoo, was missing a member. There was no

reptilian resident. After mentioning this pressing issue to my mother, I decided to do

some research.

Swiftly finishing my homework, I leapt to the computer, accidentally crunching

my little sister’s Polly Pocket set-up underfoot. My insatiable craving to learn more about

these fascinating creatures was much more important than her picnic would ever be.

Quickly scanning computer screen after computer screen, I learned as much as

possible about Russian tortoises. With the persistence of a small child obsessed with

getting what she wanted, I memorized the animal’s dietary patterns and habitation needs.

There was no way this slow-moving creature was escaping me.

            After much coaxing on my part and $200 worth of tortoise paraphernalia on hers,

my mom surprised me on my seventeenth birthday with a Russian tortoise. She named

him “Borja,” which she believed was an authentic title from that region. Little did she

know that “Borja” is actually the name of an old Spanish family, with no Russian

connection whatsoever. Worried that changing it would only confuse the beast, she

refused to capitulate.

Though he chomps his lettuce leisurely and crawls as slowly as a sloth, my life

with Borja has been anything but dull. Just a few weeks after receiving him, I

experienced a nippy power loss that chilled the entire community. While we humans

stayed warm by bundling up in layers of sweatshirts so thick that we were bulletproof,

my poor pet was in danger.

Though they come from a frigid region, Russian tortoises ironically thrive at a

temperature of 85 degrees. To accommodate our reptile, we keep a heat lamp and a heat

pad warming him day and night. But these toasty devices were rendered useless in the

merciless outage.

Panicking as I watched the thermometer in his tank drop to 60 degrees at night, I

knew I had to help. Thinking quickly, I wrapped Borja in my mom’s old college

sweatshirt, gingerly holding him next to me. The night passed more slowly than the

turtle moved, but we awoke to a bright day in which the lights were restored. This single,

perilous adventure with my tortoise oddly made me fonder of him than any other pet.

Despite his dawdling gait and sluggish posture, this scaly creature fully came out

of his shell, wriggling his way into my heart.

            If you have any exciting stories about pets, email me!