Several evenings a week, the neighbors in our cul-de-sac gather with their dogs in the driveway across the street from us. There is Max, Pace, Gus, Louie, Ella and Lucy. These are the dogs’ names. I’m terrible with human names, but I know which dog belongs to whom. Occasionally the group includes children and visiting grandchildren. Mary Ellen and I have no grandchildren, and we no longer have a dog, but we do have a cat (Mary Ellen’s, really) who would not do well in these otherwise-civilized gatherings.
I needed a pet of my own, so here’s what I did. There is a pond a few hundred yards from our house. I called my friends Marty and John in New Palestine with a request. Marty is a kind of turtle whisperer and she has been rehabbing turtles and also enjoying them as pets for 20 years. Because she often relocates rescued turtles, I asked if our neighborhood pond would be a good habitat for them. Sure enough, Marty happily provided me with three red-eared sliders. I named them Stan, Ollie and Baby Huey. After a quick tutorial at Marty and John’s, I carefully loaded them into the car and headed home. I had alerted all the neighbor kids of my plans to release the threesome and several met me at the water’s edge, giggling with delight. (You can see a short video on my Facebook page.)
Once a day (sometimes twice … okay, occasionally three times), I visit my turtles and spread joy — or whatever is in that can of food Marty gave me — across the pond. Red-eared sliders don’t need to surface for air very often, which means I have to stand on the shore for up to 90 minutes, scanning to confirm that all three of my adoptees are okay. I eagerly wait for each head to pop up, then toss more food in that direction. I also whistle when I feed them, hoping they will connect my signal with their nourishment. Some of my neighbors can see me from their decks and it probably appears to them that I am looking at my reflection in the water and then whistling at the image. Not true. I am retired from TV now and am no longer that narcissistic.
I’m excited about another new addition to my family. While I was driving home the other day, I saw in the middle of the road a turtle about the size of a dinner plate, and he was clearly in danger of being squashed by the next oncoming vehicle. I swerved onto a side street, dashed from my car, scooped him up and deposited him on my front seat. I confirmed with Marty it was another slider and she said it was a male, based on the length of his claws in the photo I texted her. I named him Buster, after my favorite silent star, Buster Keaton. I don’t think he’ll ever say much.
Now I have four new pets. Of course, turtles cannot join us for our evening puppy parties, but I know they are happy swimming in the pond behind our neighbors’ house. I forget the neighbors’ names, but their dog’s name is Chewy.
Retired television personality Dick Wolfsie writes this weekly column for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
