So my brother and I canvassed the neigborhood, put up signs and (with parental help) placed an ad in the Found section of the local newspaper. Happily, no-one responded and Cecily became one of the family.

Russian Tortoise

The fellow above is presently available for adoption at the Rio Crande Turtle & Tortoise Club.

Actually, Cecily began life with us as Cedric until a knowledgable neighbor pointed out the differences between the sexes. Not that I cared about that, my terrestrial turtle was my cuddly pet substitute. We went for walks together (actually, really slow ambling), played games  (I would lay trails of food for Cecily to follow), or just lay around day-dreaming.

Cecily’s purview was the back yard. She had the run – no, the stroll – of the lawn, flower beds and my dad’s fruit and vegetable garden. The fruit part casued a bit of a problem. During strawberry season Cecily would get as giddy as a reptile could get over the sweet, ripe berries and would work her way through as many as she could stuff down without cracking her carapace.

To deter my fruit-loving pet, Dad surrounded the strawberry bed with concrete blocks but that didn’t deter Cecily. She clawed her way up and over the 8-inch high wall. Problem was, to get down the othe side she would basically fall and, sometimes, land on her back and be unable to flip herself over.

And so the battle began. Dad tried different types of fencing but, for Cecily, they were all a breeze. She would just dig her way under or bulldoze her way through. Tempting her with other foods didn’t work, either. Cecily was single-minded when it came to strawberries. Covering the berries with mesh netting was no good. Not only could Cecily shred it easily, the strawberries didn’t get enough sun to ripen fully.

Eventually, Dad ceded the fight (though not unwillingly) and Cecily became the strawberry queen.

In the winter months my tortoise made her own bed in the compost heap and lay in it ’til she was ready to emerge from her hibernation. One year, she didn’t appear and, digging through the compost, Dad found her in that final state of sleep, never again to awaken.

We dug a grave in one of Cecily’s favorite sunning spots and said our goodbyes, reflecting that this fascinating and gentle little reptile had been a delight to know and would certainly be missed.

Tortoises can live a very long time. I have no idea of Cecily’s age and, forty-plus years ago when I found her, information on the care of these creatures was more than scarce. In fact, the import of tortoises as pets at that time was a monstrous industry. The animals were stacked on top of each other and packed into crates for  shipping, which could take weeks.  Not surprisingly, a huge percentage of the reptiles arrived dead.

I like to think that Cecily had a good life with us. There is absolutely no reason why a tortoise cannot have a good life with you! An enourmous amount of information is available on the internet, where you will also find rescue organizations who can match you with the right reptilian friend.

There’s a lot more to tortoise care than you may think (that’s why there are rescue centers, duh!). So don’t fall prey to that cute little guy at the pet store, or waste your money on an expensive terrarium when it might not be the right thing for you or the tortoise. Do your research!

“We called him Tortoise because he taught us.” ~ Lewis Carroll

Resources:

American Tortoise Rescue

tortoise protection group