Why can’t you just love me?

We recently saved a little tortoise and now he is at home with us.

Tommy I named him. Because… well, I’m lazy and uncreative at my core.

A tortoise, as it turns out, is a remarkably easy pet to have. Completely undemanding and quite reserved.

Found out my neighbour has a tortoise so I asked her for advice and she said that they do nothing. Nothing! Their tortoise lives off whatever is in the garden and only occasionally makes an appearance. He has been in this state in their garden for years she tells me.

This, of course, is totally unacceptable. He is not meeting expectations.

The first few days he seemed determined to break out of our garden. I fretted that perhaps he was a she, and there were abandoned eggs somewhere, but established that Tommy is indeed a male (whatever they may identify as).

The ever intrepid Mandova, almost as excited about Tommy as I was, secured the premises and had all kinds of ideas re. his care.

We have both had our hearts broken at Tommy’s complete lack of interest in our endeavors and outpourings of affection.

I spent many days checking on him, picking him up, crooning to him, scratching his back lovingly, buying a grocery store of tempting veggies and greens to feed him. He wants none of it. Or me.

I brought him in every night out of the cold (although truth be told, the house is a fridge and we would all be better off sleeping in the garden).

Should we make a place for him on the bed I asked my long suffering lovely man, who already has to wind himself around several inconsiderate animals to kip.

Doesn’t he wee on you every time you pick him up was his only comment. Well yes, I said, but I’m sure that’s his sign of affection. He’ll be house trained in no time.

In truth, Tommy, remarkably fast, does everything he can, to hide from me.

How long before he knows his name and comes when I call I asked my lovely man. He probably does know your voice already and is trying to ignore you replied my not so lovely man. He thinks you are a pain he continued, leave the chap alone, he’s a wild animal and wants to hibernate. You keep on getting Mandova to find him and then you wake him up to give him unwanted love and food.

Alfie, I reminded him, was a wild animal once, and he is now domesticated and loving. Alfie, he replied, is a complete mommy’s boy and wouldn’t survive two minutes in the wild.

And that, people, is how I like it. I have high hopes for Tommy’s turn around come summer.

I am not beyond forcing him to love me.