Remember I mentioned that there are a couple of turtles that I am looking after while I stay here? Well, may I introduce to you, Fat Shelly and Talulah-Patrice.
I think at some point there was a third one. As far as I remember the story goes something like this. The third one (not sure of it's name so we'll call her/him Frank) got out one day (God only knows how - and I mean that literally) and was lost in the apartment for about three weeks. How it managed to survive for three weeks without food and water is beyond me but turtles can live a very long time so I guess they have mastered the talent of surviving amidst adversity. So Frank loses a bit of weight on his three week vacation and Fat Shelly and Talulah-Patrice pack it on slightly. Eventually Frank decides he's seen enough of the big wide world and somehow manages to find his way home. Either that or someone nearly trips over him one day and plonks him back in the tank. Which, by the way is just a large plastic container.
There is a joyous reunion between the three turtles - or so it appears to begin with. Fat Shelly and Talulah-Patrice are, in reality, none to pleased to have him back - less space, seemingly less food, their list of complaints was endless. Secretly they were just really pissed that Frank had had a big adventure and they had been stuck in the plastic tub with no-one to talk to but each other and a few fish. Who, considering their short term memory, can actually be good to have around. Got only one good joke that you love to tell over and over? Then a fish is the best friend you could have - he'll laugh every time. In for a heavy discussion on politics or the state of the world's economy? Then you're in trouble. Anyway bitterness and jealousy can eat away at one's heart and turn once good natured turtle folk into petty, back stabbing little sea creatures. Now whether Fat Shelly and Talulah-Patrice plotted Frank's demise or it was in the heat of the moment, I guess we'll never really know. In the end Frank bit the dust late one Friday night after the sun lamps had been turned off and everyone had gone to bed. The next morning all that was left of Frank was his shell bobbing upside down in the tank and some teeny tiny turtle nails/claws (whatever it is they have) floating on the surface. Fat Shelly and Talulah-Patrice sat in the tank, pictures of innocence. Although strangely, not interested in the least in having their breakast.
R.I.P. Frank - the turtle I never met, fed or freaked out over having to lift out of the tank.
No comments:
Post a Comment