Toto Tuttles, affectionately known as Mr. Tuttles, is a persnickety, inquisitive, rebellious Russian tortoise. My partner, Dan, and I adopted him earlier this year. He is very particular about the food he eats, like many favors the less healthy sweeter options like romaine lettuce instead of the recommended leafy greens such as kale and spinach. He also will only eat fruits if they are hand fed.
As you can probably surmise, Mr. Tuttles is quite hard to please. One of the few things he enjoys is being released from his terrarium to freely explore and contrary to popular belief, he does so at quite an impressive speed for a turtle.
We usually just let Mr. Tuttles run around inside the apartment, but we recently moved to a place that a long green space between our building and the one next door providing us with the opportunity to let Mr. Tuttles play outside. These playtimes are usually supervised but last week, during the middle of his playtime I stepped out to quickly tend to something on our back porch. Before leaving I placed him somewhere close to the vicinity of the back porch, but when I turned around (2-3mins later) he was nowhere to be found.
There was no way he could have gone very far even at his impressive speed he was still just 5-inch turtle. Dan and I looked everywhere between ever bush, under every rock including under the house. We even printed flyers and asked neighbors. Where could a small tortoise go in the span of 2-3mins?! We came to the only logical conclusion; someone may have taken him. We were devasted by the thought, but it was the only thing that made sense. Evening turned into night and we reluctantly stopped our search. The next morning still unable to come to terms with the reality we would never see Mr. Tuttles again. I felt guilty that my neglectfulness caused us to lose our beloved pet, so I went back, and search again, still there was nothing.
I had to go back inside and begin work. I shared the devastating news with coworkers who offered their sympathies and tried to continue with my day. However, the sadness and shame made it impossible to think of anything else but Mr. Tuttles. I looked at the time in the corner of my computer, 11:11AM. I wish Mr. Tuttles comes back home; I promised I’ll take better care of him. I tried to bargain with the Universe.
Whenever 11:11 come up on a clock. I use it to evoke something I hope for either for myself or someone else. Sometimes I just use the time to talk to whatever or whomever is out there. For me 11:11 isn’t so much superstition as it is an existential reminder to connect with someone or something that’s beyond existence. Anyway, something in me convinced me to go back outside and check again, I am not sure if it was just a need to relieve my guilt, but I listened to it. So, for the second time that morning, I stepped outside and heard some rustling coming from the corner fence of the yard along our neighbors’ property. Hoping it wasn't the usual rats that travel back and forth between the neighbors’ gardens, I went to the spot and started digging through the grass, and..... there was Mr. Tuttles trying to dig a hole!
