When writing something like this, the thoughts of many turtles I have seen in the past come to mind. Many of the memories I have are wonderful, of animals near death making complete recoveries, after months of hard work, while others are simply heartwrenching and extremely difficult to bear. Then there are those that are a little of both.

To give you an idea of what life must be like for an exploited Box turtle, this is a look into the lives of just four turtles who deeply touched my heart.

Late last December,  I was traveling home after picking up some rehabilitation supplies.  The one item I needed, a full spectrum bulb, was not available at the retailer I normally did business with.  Traffic was awful, it was right after Christmas, so on my way home I stopped into a tropical fish store that I hadn't been to in well over a year.  I often stop into shops which carry reptiles, which amounts more than 30 just in the city I reside in.  I was hoping that they might have the bulb I needed, so I stepped in, and saw one of the most horrible, unforgettable sights of my life.

Upon entering this shop, I saw a large retail transaction counter. which was set up as a vivarium display for the front of the shop. It was the first thing anyone would see when walking in.   I was quite surprised at the change in this shop since I had been there last, no reptiles had been stocked there before.  The shop was at best disgraceful, at worst, a concentration camp for those stuck within its walls.  The odor was that of filthy cages, mold, and decaying animals.  I peered into the vivarium. Inside, there were two Nile monitors (a large carnivorous lizard.)  The cage was beyond filthy.  In another, a LARGE boa constrictor housed in a 30 gallon terrarium, four to six inches deep in feces and who knows what else, with no water, heat or light.

Upon closer examination, I saw 4 Box turtles hovered in the corner of the Nile Monitor terrarium, 3 Terrapene c. triunguis, and one T. ornata luteola. These turtles were in abominable conditions. The cage was full of white, fuzzy mold, literally growing atop the carapaces of two of the turtles, growing all over whatever had been left for food, which was well over a week old.  There were mold-laden feces covering the bottom of the vivarium.   There was no water.  I made a small purchase so I could later prove I’d been there, and immediately left the shop to call authorities.  I could feel tears stinging my eyes as I ran for the pay phone.  I battled with authorities for six DAYS to get these turtles out of this shop.  The owner could not be found.  Nor could the keys. (It was the New Year's Day holiday weekend)

When I was FINALLY able to get to them, I thought I had prepared myself for what I was going to be dealing with. Looking back now, there was no preparing for this.

A teenage boy had been given the keys to unlock the vivarium. One by one, as I asked for a turtle, one was handed out to me. The T. c. triunguis were the first to come out.  One,  the single most gorgeous female I had ever seen in my life, was very old, her carapace worn completely smooth. I estimated her to be at least 80-90 years of age.

Her markings were exquisite, she was a rare girl. Jet black carapace and plastron, with tiny, tiny
yellow dots dusting her face and front legs.  A gravely ill girl as well.

Then the other two triunguis came out, a male and a female.  Both, also very ill, suffering from every type of symptom one could possibly imagine.  I began to rehydrate them immediately, with subcutaneous fluids while they soaked in an electrolyte solution.

They were hollow skeletons of their former selves.  These animals had all obviously been dug out of hibernation. Then I asked for the luteola.  She was handed to me by the boy, who was saying "look, this one is asleep, isn't that nice!"

An incredible odor came over the shop, and upon examining her, her lifeless body literally fell apart in my hands. She had died days before.  The last time I saw her alive was when I had stumbled upon them the first day.  She must have been in a great deal of pain, and could battle no longer.   I surrendered the deceased female to State Humane officials, to be used as evidence, as it is illegal in the state of California to keep a deceased animal in with those still alive, and also as evidence as to the neglect that these animals were forced to endure.

Home with the three triunguis, I worked day and night for 2 days trying to pull them around.  On day two, the beautiful elderly female died from complications of severe pneumonia.  My sadness and anger were almost unbearable, thinking of these poor animals with nothing, except for the two large lizards picking at them constantly, and the sheer filth which surounded them all.  I thought of how happy her life in the wild must have been.  Of her rare beauty. What a tremendous loss.

I had the remaining two, male and female, who seemed to be showing glimpses of improvement. Little by little, they regained strength.  Daily tube feedings, subcutaneous rehydration, tri-weekly worming for incredible intestinal parasite infestation, long, warm soaks, and trips outside for sunshine were the routine for both of them.

The male improved much quicker than the female, and was eating within 4 weeks.  The female took approximately 7 weeks before she showed even the slightest interest in her surroundings,  11 weeks passed before she was able to feed on her own.

For weeks both turtles sat in the warm water, just drinking, for sometimes as long  as 30 minutes. The level of dehydration was surprising, I never had seen turtles this badly dehydrated but yet still alive.  It seemed as if I held my breath, waiting to see if the kidneys would resume function.

Once back on a normal Box turtle diet, these animals ate what seemed like their own weight in food daily. Each time I fed them, they both sat and looked at the dish in disbelief.  More food? Can't be for us!

The female, was different somehow from most of the other turtles I had rehabilitated.  Both she and the male were elderly, and had quickly developed a trusting attitude with me, as is often the case with Box turtles.  It has been my experience that they are amongst the most intelligent and animated of turtles, commonly seen begging for food, recognizing those who provide their care, and establishing deep bonds with other Box turtles.

She would often just sit and gaze at me with gorgeous, wise brown eyes. Something stirred in me as I could feel her eyes on me when I was turned away from her.  She had almost a human-like presence. Those beautiful  eyes,  full  of wisdom, gentleness, and strength, were also eyes of sadness, fear, and pain.

As the months passed, the fear and pain gradually left her eyes, until one day it was gone. It was a joy to be able to finally let she and the male outside into the sunshine with the others already healed. A safe place, with earth to dig in and bugs to catch, where the two of them could be only with their own kind.   The two of them, together headed straight for the shallow pond, had a nice soak, and acted as if they'd been dropped straight into heaven.

The female would often spot me in other areas, and climb atop a large rock, standing high on her front legs with her neck outstretched, in an attempt to gain my attention. I would walk over to her, she would climb down the rock and run to me as fast as her little legs could carry her, not taking her eye off of me for even a second.

She was later sent with all of my other rehabilitated triunguis to very special, trusted friends in Louisiana, who will make certain that they are never, ever be exposed to life in a terrarium, will have space to roam and a good diet.  A place where they will be loved, protected, and where they will be allowed to be Box turtles, spending their mornings and evenings "on the hunt," eating good, healthy, natural foods, and spending the remainder of  their time digging scrapes in piles of leaves and dirt to sleep.

I often think of those haunting eyes, and I do miss her. I am honoured to have been a part of her life.  The same is true of all the other turtles who have crossed my path.

I also think of those who weren't strong enough to hold on any longer. Instead of digging nests in the soil to lay their eggs, or to find juicy earthworms, it is the soil itself to which I have returned them. More times than I care to count.

Turtles that cross my path who can no longer fight their illnesses and abuse are returned to nature in a very special place,where any turtle would be happy, a place with green  rolling hills, oak trees, and plenty of sunshine.

The female Terrapene carolina triunguis written about in this letter was  later named "Marie."  Her guardians, who’ve now had her for  two years, are today as deeply touched and affected by her as I  was, and always will be.  She is a very special little turtle.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

The pet store Marie was rescued from was again cited for animal cruelty and neglect.  More turtles in horrid conditions were again found in this shop.

After the owner kicked BOTH Annie Lancaster and Andy Highfield out of his shop, with humane officers present, photos of those turtles as well as the perpetrator appeared in the Tortoise Trust UK newsletter. <G> Upon being exposed to the public, the owner sold the shop.  No turtle or other reptile will ever suffer at his hands again.  It gave me great joy to deliver his copy
personally.  :-)  In addition, another shop assisting me with rehabbing animals happily circuclated copies of the newsletter to all other (over 40) pet stores in the area.

Many thanks to Andy Highfield and Jill Martin at Tortoise Trust UK for assisting me in bringing the true magnitude of the American Box turtle problem (on USA soil) to the attention of the membership of Tortoise Trust UK.

Very special thanks also goes to George Patton and Martha Ann Messinger, for giving Marie, Mandy, Callie, Popeye, and many other pet trade casualties I've sent to them in past years a wonderful,  secure, humane life...guarded with loving hearts and caring hands.

©TortoiseAid
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Fight Spam! Click Here!