From my experience, the more I think about it, the more I believe that we should take a lesson from turtles (specifically box turtles) and how they live their lives.
I remember meeting an elderly lady at a pet store who was speaking to a young clerk trying to figure out what she should do. It seems that she had a couple box turtles that had been in captivity for a very long time, saying that her grandchildren were no longer interested in them as they had grown older. The young (and inexperienced) clerk couldn’t take them and suggested to the lady to let them go in a field. I chimed in and told her the truth; that letting turtles loose in a field, after being in captivity for so long, would, in all probability, be a death sentence for the little guys (Unfortunately, when turtles are removed from their environment for an extended period, their immune system becomes compromised, and they lose their resistance to nature’s naturally occurring bacteria and diseases). The lady and I spoke at length and, before we parted ways, I gave her my phone number in case she had any other questions.
A few days went by, and I received a call from her. She told me that she believed the turtles were going to die if they stayed with her and that they needed more attention than she could provide. She then asked if I could help her find them a home. I told her I would see what I could do, suggesting that maybe we post it on Facebook or something.
I went to her house to “take a look” at them in person and my heart just sank. What I say was a couple of severely neglected turtles, malnourished and with deformities from beaks (the name for a turtle’s lips) so large that they could no longer eat as their mouths would not open large enough with respect to the size of their overgrown beaks. Each time they tried to grasp any food, instead of getting a mouthful of nourishment, their beaks just nudged the food forward a couple of centimeters—they were starving to death. Their health problems were further complicated by infected feet. Their nails were so long they were starting to turn back into their own feet, causing them to slowly grow into the bottom pads of their feet and creating an opening for infections.
I had this gut-wrenching feeling that no one would take them because of the amount of attention and care (both personal and medical) they would need if they were to indeed survive. My face must have told one sad story when I was examining them as the poor lady was almost in tears as she observed me. Either way, in the wild or where they currently were, I knew the poor guys were not going to make it and I just couldn’t let them die. Long story short, that day I had a couple of additions to my family, two box turtles.
From the point I first brought them home, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I called up a veterinarian friend of mine and brought them to his office. When he looked at them, I understood what the lady must have felt when she saw me see the guys for the first time. Again, my heart just sank, and I was waiting for the worst. He told me that they are going to have a long road of recovery. At that point, he pulled out pulled out a Dremel tool and began grinding back and shaping their beaks. Then he and his assistant started to very carefully trim those ever so long nails.
When I finally got them home, I gave them a bath in warm water and placed them in their newly decorated enclosure. They just stood still, taking in their whole new environment. Slowly, they started walking around, exploring every corner, every tunnel, overhang and cave—yes, it was a very nice enclosure. I figure if they were going to have a chance, they needed a place that was as stress free and natural as possible. I manually controlled the humidity and heat lamp. I personally prepared some diced fruit and some protein for them and, I think for the very first time in a long time, they both ate without issues—aggressively I might add. As the sun set for the first time in their new home, they burrowed themselves in the ground and substrate until they could not be seen anymore.
The following morning, they did not emerge. I left them alone. On the next day, when I woke, there they were, up and visible. I placed some food for them in their dish and they worked their way to it and slowly ate. This round, they took their time eating. They then went under the heat lamp and basked for a while. And, again, when the sun began to set, they started burrowing and disappeared for the night. I would get up early the next day, but there they were already, and we went through the same process again.
Each night, the turtles would bury themselves in the substrate for slumber. Come the next morning, as the sun rose, the turtles emerged from their makeshift sleep burials and came alive for the day. This moment captured a pseudo rebirthing as their heads slowly emerged; and then with alert eyes, they would cautiously look around to check out their environment, as if to decide whether it was safe enough for them to emerge fully. After a few minutes of observation, the turtles began ascending from beneath the ground, causing the wood chips, substrate, and dirt to mound up, only to subsequently slide off their shells, as they fully emerged crawling along the ground resembling their ancestral prehistoric relatives.
For some reason, this was so exciting for me; I was drawn to it! The next day, I decided to beat them to the punch. I decided to wake up before sunrise and lay out their food before they awoke…and that is exactly what I did.
They were never in the same exact location when they decided to bury themselves and go to sleep…in the general vicinity, yes, but never the exact same location. Their heads would emerge, they would awaken and then they would look for their food, which was now always in their food dish and always in the same location. However, relative to where the turtles went to bed, the location of the food was different to them. They scanned the area methodically; meticulously looking for their food as if the day before never happened. They treated each day new, as if it was a do over. They never brought baggage from the previous day; they just started over, fresh and renewed
This ritual soon became the best part of my day. Getting up early, coffee in hand, and observing these two, little, once near-death creatures, begin their day.
After a while, it seemed that my zest for watching them start their new day, became a part of my life. The turtles began each day by first observing and processing, then planning, and finally moved forward into the day.
I now do the same, I get up early, pray, process and plan, then finally move forward into the day. Not a bad way to start!
My kindness to the turtles has now come full circle. They are the ones who ultimately were kind to me, providing me with some small process for each day.