Frankie Tortoise Tails

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Not feeling so good


Frankie is not feeling so good.

It started about a week ago during a heat wave. Frankie brumated on the hottest days. He stayed in his enclosure not bothering to come out to graze or walk which is not so unusual during the hot days. But even in the evening when he would usually come out, he stayed inside.

Then the weather improved, cloudy skies and lower temperatures. Frankie failed to exit his abode. This is unusual. Frankie would usually take advantage of a break in the weather. He would head out for as long as possible to make up for missing days grazing and walking.

I dragged his shelled-self out of his enclosure one evening since his abode needed a poop-mucking after a weeks worth of Frankie offerings. As soon as he abode was poop free, he went right back in. I was suspicious.

The next day, Frankie began marathon visits to his pool. A ten minute soak would advance to a thirty minute soak, and finish around an hour. Usually, Frankie is fan of short soaks. He is more like a drink-n-spill, a poop-n'-go, or a pee-n'-go kind of fellow. Suddenly he acted more like an aquarium turtle than a land tortoise. Water is good for sulcata and soaking is good for a sulcata but an all-day pool party is out of the norm for Frankie.

And then it rained. He interrupted his burmating for sit in the rain. Regardless of how miserable he felt he chose to sit in the rain rather seek shelter. Then it dawned on me that he was soaking in the rain. I've heard of this. The minute it starts raining, sulcata head out into the rain. Sulcata are taking advantage of the rain. Now I understand Frankie's insatiable love of rain.

So here is Frankie, double soaking: in his pool and in the rain. He just had to be waterlogged.

It was a few days into all this that I did take him to his his doctor. I had too. After watching a non-normal Frankie, brooding around and looking sad, I administered the sulcata wellness test: offer Frankie a carrot, his favorite treat.

Frankie turned it down. Uh, oh. So I did the Just-How-Sick-Is-The-Sulcata-Test. I offered him a small bit of banana. Frankie turned it down.

Oh, shells! This is bad.

Into the house to make an urgent appointment with Dr. Atlas. At the veterinarian clinic, the usually exploring, lets-move-the-reception-room-furniture-the-way-I-like-it Frankie sat in a corner. A third ominous sign.

Dr. Atlas took the history: lethargic even when during good weather, reduce poop output, increased brumation, refusing favorite treat, refusing banana.

Dr Atlas took out some land tortoise food and put it down in front of Frankie. Frankie smelled at it and then ate it. When he was finished, Frankie went back into the corner.

“He is eating,” Dr Atlas says.

“Well yeah. But he isn't chasing you around the room trying to get more.”

Dr. Atlas considers this. “There is that.”

Frankie gets an x-rays which revel he has bowels full of poop and “substances”. “Substances” would be non-sulcata approved food items that sulcata eat just to prove they can and do eat anything. The good news is there is no nails, sticks, rocks or plastics. He has no gas bubbles in his intestines which is also good news. But he has lots to pass, and pass it must before Frankie will feel better.

Doctors orders: Take 7 each tabs of Metoclopramide/Reglan each day. Feed aloe vera, cactus plants or any sulcata safe laxative plants and lots of grass and hay. I am ordered on Poop Watch: how many, what is in them.

So Frankie goes home to begin the road to wellness. I go home to start Poop Patrol. Yep, I look through each and every fresh poop looking for the right stuff and wrong stuff. I think Shakespeare said something like “Out, damned poop” in Macbeth, or maybe that was spot or blood, but the point is Sulcata stink hangs on like grass stains white cotton. Thirty minutes later and three soapy hand washings and I can still smell Frankie butt on my hands.

So besides Poop Watch, begins the daily monitor Frankie's behavior: sleep, walking, soaking.

It's a roller coaster. Frankie has better moments of the old walking and grazing fool which is a relief to me. But the other moments are still there.

I'll visit him under the porch and he will just look like the most miserable feeling sulcata in the world: eye semi-open, head hanging, thinking of pooping but nothing happens. He feels so bad he just wants me to sit by him and rub his shell. Not exactly big-sulcata boy stuff but it seems to put him a bit at ease.

If he manages a few poops, he feels like a trillion bucks (inflation). Off Frankie goes to graze and walk around his yard.

On day 7 of Frankie not feeling good, and he is still not feeling good. No poops in the morning. Lots of time in the pool. Lots of sleep under the patio. Miserable sad looking Frankie.

So I sit under the patio with Frankie hoping for poop.

When a sulcata get's sick, recovery is slow. It just takes time. It's up and down, feeling good then feeling bad. Unlike humans, Sulcata tend to take just as long to get well as they do to get sick. It is usually not just something that happens over night. And so an illness may take a while to show up on Frankie's face, or poops, or lack of.

Frankie is miserable. I am miserable. Frankie can't wait to get better. I can't wait for Frankie to get better. It's watch and wait.
 

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RE: Frankie Tortoise Tails: Not Feeling So Good

Time for an update!

Poop-elation!

Day two of poop-elation at my house. Okay, so you have to own a sulcata tortoise to understand what poop-elation means and how it feels after sick Frankie for 10 plus days.

Ten days of sad, miserable, I-don’t-want-to-do-anything, no-pooping sulcata is a sign of big trouble. This results in a very expensive visit to Frankie’s veterinarian and a tell-all x-ray starring poop with stage fright (….no, that’s not right), I mean poop with a refusal to show it’s ugly face because the story it tells may just be a tragedy. This was followed by a week of daily medicine, hours of Frankie soaking in pool and rain (his preferred choice of soaking), and enough cactus pads to keep a local Hispanic grocery market in business.

The poop diary over those days was bleak. The average sulcata poop dump on a typical summer day should count more than 10 very generous fibrous poops. Frankie was eeking out maybe one to two each day. Poop dissection revealed lots of leaf litter, pine needles and an occasional rock: items that should not be in happy sulcata poop.

But yesterday, a breakthrough! The otherwise would be miserable Frankie was a mighty proud producer of five large morning poops. And just to prove there was no outside donor Frankie produced one more with me as a witness. I did my happy-poop tap dance. The poop dissection revealed 100% pure indigestible fibrous grass remains. I became a backyard cheer leader.

The rest of the day Frankie spend walking, grazing, relaxing as I smiled from the sidelines. Big sigh of relief. Frankie is going to be okay. I can afford to pay for Greg’s birthday present (he already bought it).

…..but maybe I am getting too far ahead. After all, tortoises are slow to get sick and even slower to get well. I’ve already announced to everyone about Frankie’s 5 poop delivery and there is a chance it’s not over yet…..

Oh, but this morning, another big pile of Frankie poop! Whooooooo hooooooo! Leann happy dance. Happy, happy, happy! Poop dissection reveals very warm, summer green, all grass fiber contents complete with fresh as Frankie’s butt aroma. Whooooo hoooo!

Frankie, looking at me from under the patio, looks annoyed at my behavior. Then I notice that he has pushed his Dogloo from its original spot. And the blue pool that was full of water yesterday is empty and crumbled like a napkin. Across the yard I spot the old grey plastic chair that was by the gate yesterday. The chair has a new crack across the seat.

Whoooooooo hooooooo! Frankie the descruction-antor is back!!!!
 

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Frankie Tortoise Tails: UPS Man Cometh

[This is also on Frankie Tortoise Tails Blog]

UPS Man Cometh

Today I got a package delivered by good-ole UPS. I was expecting this package. I didn't expect that the box it came in would be HUGE .

Someone decided a roll of outdoor fabric needed something extra special to help keep it safe on it's journey to my house. The small roll of outdoor fabric was cushioned with yards and yards of brown paper.....you know that UPS brown paper wrap?

I have this small roll of outdoor fabric, a huge box (that is quickly claimed by Newt the cat) and yards and yards of UPS brown paper.

Not wanting to waste all the UPS brown paper, I decided to take it out to Frankie's cave to use it as bedding. The UPS brown paper tears easily, it doesn't cause me to break out in hives like hay and straw, and after Frankie poops all over it the UPS brown paper can be composed.

So I went outside with the huge armful of UPS brown paper and I set it down by Frankie's cave.

Frankie saw me come down the stairs so obviously (to him) I must have a treat and he wasn't about to be late for a treat. Frankie's speedy sulcata shuffle-trot brought him to my side in an instant so he could claim his deserved treat.

Only I don't have a treat.

My purpose was just to get the paper into Frankie's cave and there were yards and yards of it so I had no available hand to bring him a treat too. He was disappointed but quickly became distracted by the pile of crumpled UPS brown paper sitting on the ground which I was planning on tearing up from one very long piece of paper to lots of shredded paper.

Frankie has seen this kind of paper before. He has slept many delightful nights snuggled in UPS brown paper.

But this is Frankie's backyard.

Frankie can decide if something is allowed, or if it must be given the "Frankie rules".

The pile of UPS brown paper was going to get the Frankie Rules.

Frankie first decided that the pile of paper needed to be rammed.

Set squarely up against the pile of paper and his head pulled back into his shell, Frankie did a complete forward shell ram. Frankie dove deep into the pile of paper with such a force that had that paper had bones they would have all been broken.

The paper played smart and just laid there and accepted it's doom.

Frankie then decided that the UPS brown paper must then be trampled...several times.

All the while I am tearing up the paper into smaller sheets which are better sized for burrowing.

When Frankie was finished tramping and tromping all over the UPS brown paper he went about rewarding his excellent demonstration of how-it-is-in-Frankie's-yard by grazing on some local green grass.

Ya' gotta smile.

(Dedicated to Frankie's dear friend, Spring Pace)
 

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Frankie Tortoise Tails: Year of the Ram

It's Frankie's birthday today!

Year of the Ram

What's bugging Frankie? Really? What is up with him?

Maybe it's the heat? He can't decide if he wants to sleep outside under a tree or under a bush, on the side of the yard, in his cave or half in his cave and half out his cave. This evening he had his front end hanging out of his cave with his front feed dangling in mid air.

Looks peaceful enough.

He wasn't that way all day.

I heard a huge thump this afternoon. Ran outside to find Frankie upside down under the porch.

What the...?

This was the second time this week. I just can't have Frankie turning himself upside down all the time.

Maybe he was after the umbrilla stand that's sitting on top of the cinder block.

I took the umbrilla stand off off cinder block and put it on the ground.

Frankie promptly rammed the umbrilla stand four times. Then Frankie mounted the umbrilla stand and..well....he humped it.

After Frankie had his way with the umbrella stand he headed out from under the patio. On his way out he came upon the lawn chair innocently sitting adjacent to the patio. It's my nice green patio chair that I sit on when I am visiting Frankie.

Lucky for me I am not sitting in my lawn chair.

For some reason that the lawn chair offended Frankie and he decided that it must be rammed. And so the lawn chair was laid over on it's side by the 100 pound Frankie sulcata. Maybe it just looks better that way.

Frankie then proceeded to check if the yard gate was open. He knows the gate swings open for lawnmowers and me and various other items. Frankie knows that sometimes the gate opens for him. The gate is not open. I have no intention of opening the gate.

Frankie decided to ram the gate open. At 100 pounds, a sulcata can open a gate.

A few days ago, I heard a knock on my front door. It was one of the kids down the street. He wanted me to know that Frankie was taking a walk, again, alone.

On Wednesday, August 1st, Frankie will wake up and he will be 11 years old.

And a solid 100 pounds of solid sulcata ramming power.

I've placed a wood fence in front of the gate. And a lock. Hopefully it will hold.


I am going to have to disagree with the Chinese calendar that says this is the year of the Dragon.

This is Frankie's year of the Ram.
 

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Frankie Tortoise Tails: Enemy of the State

Enemy of the State


For several months now Frankie has been trying to dig under his enclosure....or so I thought. Evidence of this is displaced dirt and a displaced white drain pipe.

This white drain pipe goes under Frankie's enclosure to a French drain on the higher side of his cave and it keeps rain from building up and seeping into his front door.

Regardless of the French drain, sometimes it rains so hard and so long that water rushes past the French drain and into the front of Frankie's enclsoure.

The white drain pipe has gone unnoticed and untouched by Frankie until just recently.

Lately I can hear Frankie messing with the area by the drain and now I find that it is necessary to run down and tell Frankie to "Stop digging!"

He tore off the longer part of the white pipe and after numerous times replaceing it only to have him dig it back up I simply removed the pipe and only put in on when it's goning to rain.

And since this is day two of occasionally raining, yesterday I put the while pipe back so it could do it's job.

Until about an hour ago.

Bang. Boom, Bang. Crash.

Frankie's digging again and I head outside to see what's happen.

I arrive to this:
Frankie has gotten under the white pipe and dislodged it from the buried pipe.

I yell at Frankie. "Frankie!"

And I take a couple more pictures.

Then I think, I'll try the nifty new movie feature. While innocently filming my silly turtle, the reason he is really over in the corner becomes all too apparent.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kKXQ9kh1q4A&feature=youtu.be

After my second, "Are you done?" and the filming is complete, Frankie ducks his head down and gives the old while pipe another Frankie lesson.

We are going to have to bury the pipe.
 

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Frankie Tortoise Tails: Elevator

From Frankie Tortoise Tails Click to go directly to Blog

Elevator

I was obliged, at 5:00 a.m., to crack open a dictionary to see if could find a word to describe this relationship I have between Frankie and myself.

Yes, long before everyone else is obligated to respond to the dreaded alarm clock, forced to wake and wash and dress, to stumble toward a coffee pot that promises a bolt of bravery, to forge forward to their job or responsibility, or school, or even just to head toward a day of leisure, I am up to see if my precious Frankie is sleeping soundly, warm and snuggy, in the gecko room, because for some insane reason I can't allow a creature evolved to handle cold nights to stay outdoors in a heated custom-made habitat capable of keeping him safe and sound, and I need to find a word that describes exactly what a sap I am for an 11 year old, 85 pound sulcata tortoise.

I'm not sure there is a word that fits. "Sucker" was the next word that popped into my mind.

Sulcata keepers often refer to themselves as "parental unit" but I hardly feel as if I am raising a child and guiding him through the living experience by teaching him hygiene or the alphabet, or hazards of riding a bike, or how to be polite.

Frankie crashes through his life and I find myself trailing behind the wreckage cleaning up after him.

The word "slave" passed before me but along with all the negative, ugly connotations it strongly implies an unwillingness, without-choice, forced service. No. Not only is my participation willing, I strive to excel, to go beyond expectations or obligations. I volunteered! I put my hand up begging to be chosen.

Back to the word, "sucker."

But sucker implies being deceived or duped. Nah. I knew what I was getting into. I anticipate the next pound. There is extensive preparation. I put forethought into Frankie's care.

Sap? I feel this way sometimes but still it doesn't fit. Gullible? Pushover?

Maybe I am looking at this all wrong.

Maybe 5:00 a.m. is the wrong time to think about this.

Maybe a cup of coffee?

How about just grab a pillow and a blanket, go downstairs to the gecko room and curl up on the chair and watch Frankie sleep?

How about just install an elevator in the house so Frankie can come upstairs and sleep under our bed.

Really?

Did I really just think that?

Yes, I did.

Sucker.
 

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Frankie Tortoise Times: Unusual Holiday Job

Unusual Holiday Job
Caretaker needed for large sulcata tortoise. Tortoise is an 11 year old, 85 pound with the push and destroy power of high torque Ditch Witch and operates independently from screaming humans who believe they are the operators.

That tortoise stays inside our basement gecko room during winter.

He's there now.

We really want to see our family this Holiday Season.

We need a Frankie Sitter.

Must be able to lift 85 pounds of put-me-down-right-now wiggling dead weight tortoise. Bonus if sitter has genius, mechanical and/or carpentry skills to create an emergency lift for emergency situations and can navigate over terrain from grass, mud, sidewalks, linoleum, and basement floors.

Must put up with copious amounts of urine and dozens bits of poop trailing from the sleeping area, across the gecko room, and often found in mysterious places that there is no explanation how the poop got there. Often the poop will be mixed with the urine so must be skillful with a mop and tolerant of wringing a disgusting drippy mop five or six times daily as the amount of output from the rear end of the tortoise can only be described as "amazing."

Must be present downstairs in the gecko rooms when lights automatically come on at 7:00 am to check if the beast has moved around during the night and taken down a couple of chairs or tables or shelves.

Monitor weather daily checking for possible sunny skies. If there is sun, it will not matter if its 30º F, the tortoise will want to go outside and bask. Even if there is no sun the tortoise will want to "see for himself" and may get lost between the back door and the gecko room.

Since the tortoise has refused any type of hay for 11 years the sitter will need to walk or drive to a chemical free area and pick a bag full of grass and weeds every day. Okay, sure, buy a couple dozen brands and types of hay, cut them up, and soak them -- the tortoise will not eat any of it. He wants fresh green grass and weeds. If he doesn't get his fresh grass he will eat newspaper, socks, wash cloths, plastic, glitter and anything that has no resemblance to grass (except hay) because he's hungry and pissed.

Be on alert between one o'clock to four o'clock in the after noon because there is no predicting when the tortoise wants to come inside. He will bump the door a couple of times and if it doesn't open he will ram it; If the door still doesn't open he will turn around to try the back yard gate which we keep closed so he will turn around again toward the fenced barrier that "keeps him from escaping." He will then ram through the barrier to look for someone else to shelter and feed him.

This is important! No matter what has transpired during the day, no matter how much poop and pee had to be cleaned up, how often he re-arranged the gecko room, how long it took to find pesticide free grass, how often the 85 pound monster has to be picked up, or how much destruction occurred, you must give him a carrot.

The carrot is not a reward. The carrot is the daily peace offering he expects otherwise he will take down a couple of walls, doors and shelves.

In the late afternoon, after he has had his carrot, and has crawled under his table, pile tons of newspaper all over him so he feels like he is safe in his cave.

There is one easy task: feed and water the cat who will then attempt to love you to death for feeding and watering her.

Frankie doesn't have owners....Frankie has staff.

It's a lot to ask. We just hope for the best and feel lucky to get an occasional Christmas with our families.

.......................
Dedicated to Julie Maguire, Turtle Rescue of Long Island, who does this every day for dozens of rescued turtles and tortoises.
 

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RE: Frankie Tortoise Times: Unusual Holiday Job

Just an illustration of Frankie in the gecko room.
gecko room mess.jpg
trail of poop.jpg
urate clean up.jpg
 
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Frankie Tortoise Tails: The Frankie Axiom

If you’re a huge fan of algebra, probability and math then you've come across the term “ dependent events.” Fascinating stuff. No? James Bond knows about this stuff because he is a good poker player.

Really! Get on the internet and look it up. Cool stuff.

So what does math have to do with Frankie? Frankie has created dependent events just being in the gecko room.

For example, I have a routine in the gecko room. I have geckos therefore I clean gecko enclosures: It’s 100% gotta do and no probability to it.

Toss 85 pound sulcata tortoise into the gecko room and it’s a mess of probabilities and independent and dependent events, cause and effect and a touch of chaos.

This morning I went into the gecko room to begin chores. Frankie is sleeping under a pile of crumpled newspapers. Right off the bat I have to deal with probabilities: Frankie can continue to sleep or Frankie will wake up.

Greatly desiring that Frankie will sleep a little longer I turn his heat pad on a low setting. Frankie-cold means more sleep results in gecko chores completed. Still, I am putting off the inevitable event of Frankie waking up.

First thing I gotta do is feed the box turtles. If Frankie is awake for feed-box-turtle event then the probability of Frankie peeing on the floor increases dramatically. I grab supplements and food and immediately start feeding the girls.

The lower heat delay was worth about 20 minutes. I am not yet finished with feeding the girls when Frankie pulls up beside me (I am sitting on the floor) to see if his ladies are around. Frankie catches sight of Mama Turtle. Frankie pees.

It’s a chain of events that results in the gecko room getting mopped today. Today is not floor mopping day. Frankie seeing box turtles changed the outcome.

Frankie doesn't get fed every day during winter however the probability he will be fed is directly related to the amount of newspaper he will consume to get the point across to me that today, indeed, is a day Frankie will be fed. It’s called Conditional Probability.

Frankie getting fed creates another curious dependant event.

I head outside to pick grass and weeds from the yard. I get ½ a bag because it’s all the time I want to be away from Frankie who is eating newspaper. I get back. First I pull newspaper outta Frankie’s mouth so he can eat the greens. Frankie happily turns his attention to his pile of green grass and weeds.

Curiously, Frankie enjoying his pile of grass and weeds may or may not cause Newt the cat to throw up.

Newt sees the pile of grass and weeds being eaten by Frankie. Will Newt ignore Frankie’s feast or will Newt spontaneously join in? Newt joins Frankie as a dinner guest.

Frankie doesn’t seem to mind that Newt is eating pieces of his grass. Contrarily, Frankie seems to enjoy the company. Newt and Frankie stare at each other all the while they munch away.

Then, already predicted as probable, Newt promptly up-chucks the freshly eaten grass right there next to the pile of greens.

Then it happened: A dependent event that could only occur following low-heat, turtle induced floor pee, newspaper eating, green feast, a dinner guest, and cat regurgitation.

You already know it.

Frankie eats the cat’s regurgitated grass.

Math confirms what we already know: Frankie can’t let a single blade of green grass go uneaten.
 

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Frankie Tortoise Tails: To The Ends of The Earth

My hands are rough as sandpaper. I could wash dirty pots and pans without using a scrub brush. If Rhett Butler kissed my hand he would know I am not an upper class luncheon lady who can name three proper brands for high tea. My hands so rough I could use them to exfoliate.

Why?

In the front yard is a very generous flower garden. It backs up to the house with one open side. We never use chemicals or insecticide so it's perfect for Momma Turtle, Big Turtle and Brown eyes, my three box turtles, to have time in the sun. Even Frankie (50 pounds ago) has enjoyed a turn around the garden. I have thus called it the turtle garden for years.

With my bare hands I cleaned out leaves and debris, dug up weeds, and turned the soil of the Turtle Garden rather urgently. Then I went to the front of the house and pulled out five years worth of accumulated leaves that had gathered around all the azalea bushes. For good measure I also dug up the soil around the bushes and while I was at it from the foundation in front of the house.

Still full of panic and energy, I went to Frankie's winter basking area by the garage and dug up the vegetable garden. Yea, Frankie was watching.

I finely stopped long enough to call Greta, my turtle friend, to see if she would like to help dig up my yard. What a great friend. She showed up and re-dug all the areas that I dug up.

While we were at it we decided to dig up both my neighbor's front flower beds...and perimeter of their house, and fences.

We finely surrender our desperate activities right before five o'clock because we both have families to feed. And it was getting dark.

So why did we clean out the neighbor's flower beds and all of my flower beds with our bare hands?

Because Brown Eyes went missing from the front Turtle Garden.

Box turtles are good at several things: hiding, digging, climbing and hiding. No way to accurately predict if Brown Eyes dug deep in the flower bed, or climbed out of the Turtle garden and walked to a neighbors' yard and then dug under. Frankie is a good hider. Box turtles are better. So we dug.

Gretta and I have been digging for five days now. At least we started using garden spades, gloves and galoshes.

So what is the point of this story? Will it have a good outcome? Will it have a sad outcome?

I've taken every bit of turtle knowledge learned over fifteen years and done everything I can to find Brown Eyes. I've dug barehanded not caring that my nails and hands are being brutalized by the Alabama clay dirt. I've abused this bumbling body of mine by crawling (literally) under bushes, lifting heavy objects, creeping on hands and knees, leaning over bushes, and skulking about in the rain. Make lost posters. Talk to neighbors. Wake up at 3:00 a.m. Cry.

That's what turtle owners do: Everything.

There is no peace until the missing is found or, if not found, everything possible is tried to bring them back.
turtle garden.jpg
 
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Frankie Tortoise Tails: Dilemma

What!

What are you waking me up for? I don't want to wake up. Ten o'clock is too early to wake up.

If you want me up then you're gonna have to pull me out of my newspaper.

Fine. See if I care if you take away my newspaper. You're mean!

No I don't want to go outside. You can't make me go outside. I am gonna sit right here all day long and not move....except to poop. Then I will sit here on my poop all day because you made me get up.

I'm not gonna walk outside. I am happy to sit here inside the gecko room until summer get's here.

No way are you talking me into leaving the gecko room. You go right ahead and cluck and whistle and offer carrots. I am not going outside.

Go ahead and push me outside cause I am not walking on my own.

Good luck putting me on that cart. It will be the last time you ever lift anything over 10 pounds. Your gonna be set up in bed for a week.

Oh, right, drag me outside. I'm gonna tell everyone how mean you are. You are so cruel. There is just no reason to drag me outside when I am perfectly happy inside.

Fine. I'll sit here in the sun but I am not going into the back yard. This is as far as I go. I don't need to go in the backyard. You can't make me go.

Oh, right, get dad to trick me into walking into the backyard. Unfair to bring outsiders into this situation.

Lock the gate behind me! You're gonna have to because if you left it open I would just turn around and come back inside.

I am going inside. As soon as the gate opens.

Fine! I'm going over here by the fence and wait for that gate to open.

What? It's time for bed? But I need my sun time. Can't I just sit out here for a few more minutes. What if I just sleep out here. It's so nice.

Hey! It's cold out here! Someone let me inside right now!
 

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Frankie Tortoise Tails: Little Squirt

Frankie hates baths.

I didn't realize he hated baths. I thought he loved them.

Frankie needed a bath for Walk for Autism. That's what Greg told me: "Frankie stinks. He stinks bad! Maybe you don't think he stinks but he does."

Beaten by Keeper's Nose again! I can't tell Frankie stinks. Sure his shell and feet are dirty but I can't tell he smells.

"He smells like animal sewage." Okay, okay. I get the point, Greg. Frankie gets a bath today.

I gather up a bucket and fill it with warm water. I fetch a tooth brush, soap dispenser, bucket and a sponge. Frankie is outside sunning so I head out to where he is sitting.

Apparently Frankie can identify what a tooth brush, soap dispenser, a bucket and a sponge look like. Not only can he identify those objects but can accurately deduct what a a tooth brush, soap dispenser, bucket and a sponge mean in his small little world

When he saw me with the tooth brush, soap dispenser, bucket and sponge Frankie took off running.

I've seen Frankie actually run a few times. This is the first time he's run from me.

I really wanted to bath him on the driveway to avoid getting mud and wetness all over me but Frankie is running toward the backyard. I catch up and stop Frankie by the fence. The minute I stand up to arrange the instruments of torture Frankie dug his head deep into the corner of the fence.

Fine, I decide. We are doing this the hard way.

Isn't funny that this is exactly what Frankie was thinking. Fine, Frankie thinks, we were going to do this the hard way.

I can't get to Frankie's front because he is dug deep into the corner of the fence. Fine, I will start on the back end.

Sulcata tortoises can lower themselves really close to the ground. There is no way I am gonna get to feet or under carriage. I proceed to soap and rub his shell clean with the sponge. On tough spots I scrub with the tooth bush. Every time I get near his feet or tail end he digs in deep.

I try to move to the front of his shell. Frankie abruptly rotates his back end so I can't reach it. I swing to the other side of Frankie and he simply rotates his rear end around so I can't past him.

Fine. We're gonna do this the hard way.

So, with great difficulty and fighting a nearly impossible evolutionary developed shell that says no-you-can't turn-me-over and a kicking madly all the way tortoise I manage to get Frankie turned over on his back. This is something I don't do lightly. Tortoise don't like to be on their back. Frankie doesn't want to be on his back.

Yuck! His bottom shell is dirty! I proceed to sponge water over his carapace and then start scrubbing away the grime.

Frankie let me know exactly how he felt about being turned over on his back and getting a bath.

It's one of the oldest jokes in the world. Parent gives baby boy a diaper change. Just as the diaper is removed the baby boy lets loose a graceful arch of pee all over mom or dad.

Let me answer those burning questions: "Yes it is possible, " and "Yes, Frankie squirt me."
 
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