I’m so glad u found her it’s so sad to lose something that you love ❤️ XxYesterday afternoon I did something that Tom and other experienced tortoise keepers have repeatedly warned against : I took my 3 year old desert tortoise out of her enclosure and into yard. My intentions were good: to provide her with excercise and stimulation while he permanent large enclosure is being built. I was determined to keep my eyes on her every second: but guess what.
Something distracted me; I went to attend to it, and when I came back to the place where Cholla had been, she was gone.
For fear of stepping on her my husband and I took off our shoes, and we searched and searched until dark. Then, still barefoot, we brought out a mag light and a lantern and searched for hours more. No Cholla. Around 10 pm we went to bed, me in a state of high anxiety and great remorse.
At 7 a.m. this morning my daughter and grandson came over to help us look. On our hands and knees we searched under every bush, every leaf, in every crevice and depression, no Cholla. I cut down several small bushes, ripped up grass and weeds, etc. etc. We hoped she would come out from wherever she was once the yard was warm and sunny, but no.
We even went into the neighbors' backyard just in case she had somehow found a way under the fence, but their yard is such a jungle, and with so much stuff piled up along the fence line, it was pretty hopeless. We did all we could there, which wasn't much, and went back to searching our yards, back and front. No good.
I can't express how heartbroken I was, and how furious I was with myself
I loved her so dearly, but I had behaved stupidly and endangered her safety and her life. What really killed me is that just before I stupidly walked away from her yesterday afternoon, I had been sitting with her while she contentedly nosed around within a 2 foot radius around m, then crawled over my feet and into my lap. That I might never experience her sweetness again was practically killing me.
I prayed for the intercession of St. Francis of Assisi and St. Anthony of Padua, and . . .
. . . God was merciful. At 1 pm I was lying on my stomach under a big rock rose, carefully pruning out the lower branches in an attempt to create more visibililty under there just in case cholla was hiding there.. After about ten minutes of this suddenly my Cholla appeared from somewhere in the thicket of the bush. I didn't see where she emerged, but she was walking very fast with her little neck stretched out and body language that looked frightened, or at the least, confused.
I may be projecting these emotions on her, and I may doing the same about the relief she seemed to feel when put her back in her familiar enclosure. She checked out every part of her enclosure several times. I fed her; she chomped her food down vorcaiously. I sat in the enclosure with her as she checked around one more time, then waddled happily into her little hut.
I sat there sobbing with gratitude and relief. I'm still thanking God with all my heart.
The moral of the story is to follow the advice of the experienced people on this forum: Don't imagine that you can't be distracted from watching him/her walk around. You can be distracted, as I was, for just a few minutes, and as a result lose your tortoise for twenty hours like I did. Or worse, lose her forever.
Yesterday afternoon I did something that Tom and other experienced tortoise keepers have repeatedly warned against : I took my 3 year old desert tortoise out of her enclosure and into yard. My intentions were good: to provide her with excercise and stimulation while he permanent large enclosure is being built. I was determined to keep my eyes on her every second: but guess what.
Something distracted me; I went to attend to it, and when I came back to the place where Cholla had been, she was gone.
For fear of stepping on her my husband and I took off our shoes, and we searched and searched until dark. Then, still barefoot, we brought out a mag light and a lantern and searched for hours more. No Cholla. Around 10 pm we went to bed, me in a state of high anxiety and great remorse.
At 7 a.m. this morning my daughter and grandson came over to help us look. On our hands and knees we searched under every bush, every leaf, in every crevice and depression, no Cholla. I cut down several small bushes, ripped up grass and weeds, etc. etc. We hoped she would come out from wherever she was once the yard was warm and sunny, but no.
We even went into the neighbors' backyard just in case she had somehow found a way under the fence, but their yard is such a jungle, and with so much stuff piled up along the fence line, it was pretty hopeless. We did all we could there, which wasn't much, and went back to searching our yards, back and front. No good.
I can't express how heartbroken I was, and how furious I was with myself
I loved her so dearly, but I had behaved stupidly and endangered her safety and her life. What really killed me is that just before I stupidly walked away from her yesterday afternoon, I had been sitting with her while she contentedly nosed around within a 2 foot radius around m, then crawled over my feet and into my lap. That I might never experience her sweetness again was practically killing me.
I prayed for the intercession of St. Francis of Assisi and St. Anthony of Padua, and . . .
. . . God was merciful. At 1 pm I was lying on my stomach under a big rock rose, carefully pruning out the lower branches in an attempt to create more visibililty under there just in case cholla was hiding there.. After about ten minutes of this suddenly my Cholla appeared from somewhere in the thicket of the bush. I didn't see where she emerged, but she was walking very fast with her little neck stretched out and body language that looked frightened, or at the least, confused.
I may be projecting these emotions on her, and I may doing the same about the relief she seemed to feel when put her back in her familiar enclosure. She checked out every part of her enclosure several times. I fed her; she chomped her food down vorcaiously. I sat in the enclosure with her as she checked around one more time, then waddled happily into her little hut.
I sat there sobbing with gratitude and relief. I'm still thanking God with all my heart.
The moral of the story is to follow the advice of the experienced people on this forum: Don't imagine that you can't be distracted from watching him/her walk around. You can be distracted, as I was, for just a few minutes, and as a result lose your tortoise for twenty hours like I did. Or worse, lose her forever.