It is Monday Morning and having survived Mother’s Day and a trip to the theater to see the new Star Trek Movie, I have a story to tell.
No, it isn’t about the roses my son bought me, or the health risk I took when I sat down on a theater seat, go read Wash Your Hands. No, this is about the family turtle, Cally Berry.
As far as I know, Cally Berry is a wild caught, pet store sold box turtle. We bought her and nursed her into health in 2001. She laid eggs that year, so we think she is at least entering her second or third decade, now.
Before I go on, I have to advise, if you see a turtle in the wild, leave it there. If you have a turtle, don’t turn it loose. Germs go both ways. As for catching great numbers of turtles, compacting them in boxes and transferring them for the pet trade, don’t do it.
Okay, on with the story.
I know our turtle has favorite foods, crickets for sport, worms for getting fat and veggies on an off day. I know she likes a good swim in a shoebox shaped Tupperware tub to help her get her bowels moving. I know she likes her basking light.
Other than the creature comforts, this is a turtle who is generally quiet, the neighbor who keeps to herself. A turtle you’d feel comfortable with if you needed directions or a short ride with an empty gas can.
After months of snow up here in Montana, a few warm days in a row prompted us to bring Cally Berry out for some natural sunshine and exercise not associated with a small container of water.
We watched her crawl away, someone would go pluck her up, point her back to the human group and set her back down in the grass. This went on for a while. Then one human broke away and went inside to play video games in the dark dank basement. I was watching the dog, who doesn’t seem to know the turtle shares the world with her.
My darling husband asks where the turtle went. We look around. Hubby is taller and has a much better scoping ability, so he scanned the yard while I literally poked about the brush and nearby trees.
She couldn’t have gone far. I was certain of that. Then I was worried, my granddaughter, under my watchful eye once took herself for a walk to the mountains. (A kind neighbor returned my grandchild safely before I had a full blown mental breakdown.) Are there Amber Alerts for Turtles? Should I call someone? Do I have recent pictures? Will she answer to her name?
Then at the height of my anxiety, my husband announces he has found our rather low profile turtle. She had traversed the rather long East Yard, crossed the toys and the driveway and gone all the way up the ramp to the front door of our house. She was waiting to go inside.
I did not know she had this level of awareness and can tell you I will never think of her in quite the same way again. If she can find her way inside what else can she do? What possible schemes might she be planning?
Thanks for reading and as usual, leave a comment.
Comments
6 responses to “Creature Comforts – A Quiet Turtle Who Kept to Herself”
Turtle is Mother Earth and is the oldest symbol for our planet according to our wonderful Native Americans. If you have turtle medicine, which I believe that Sally has, you are grounded, creative, focused and very connected to the Earth.
Turtle’s shell is a form of protection and you can employ the same protection by going into your own shell and honoring your feelings if you are bothered by the jealousy, hurt and unconsciousness of others. And if you are attacked, give a snap!
Remember the Tortise and the Hare? Slow and steady wins the race! If you find yourself scattered, unfocused and unable to finish projects call on Turtle. If you see a turtle Mother Earth is gently reminding you to reconnect to her abundant nature.
Thanks Shelley.
Shelley has a really nice blog of her own that is very worth a visit. Go up there to the BlogRoll list in the top right corner and click on the link. Or try the link here in the comments area.
B*B
Sally
http://shelleyszajner.wordpress.com/
Aww. I love this story. I collect small inanimate turtles and I wear a turtle necklace as a reminder to be patient in my life. It’s nice to think that turtles have a small section of brain marked…ruby slippers.
Years ago, my kids brought home a turtle with a hurt leg. We nursed it back to health and it settled in as part of the family. Its shell was about the size of a large dinner plate, but it was gentle and affectionate.
Picasso (since the Ninja Turtles were popular at the time) loved to sit in my lap and watch TV, while I rubbed turtle cream onto his shell, legs and head. He ate cat food and used the litter box. Life was happy for us all…until I started dating a new man. Picasso didn’t like him.
Our cuddly turtle turned into a hissing, biting fiend. Turns out that he was a snapping turtle. All those months he crawled around on my kids (loved to lay on my 3-year-old son’s back and watch TV), sat in my lap, snuggled with the dogs and the cat, he had never once snapped or even hissed.
I guess our home was a wonderful place to live!
What a hoot.
I think I just read that snapping turtles grow into a snapping phase, but then I might be confusing the Turtle with the Parrot.
I wish everyone came into relationships with ‘warning turtles.’
Cally Berry is too small to run about loose. We can’t trust the bird not to pick on her when we aren’t looking. And our bird is NOT the quiet type who keeps to herself.
Thanks for the story, I enjoyed reading it.
Sally