A promise is a promise - it's tortoise time. One of our family rituals, is playing Hide and Seek with 5 of the 6 reptile members of our family. Well, just Seek really. They are incredibly good at "disappearing", sometimes only letting us find them after a few days. I love how when they know they have been found, they simply stop, completely still, and retract their heads into their shells. It's the "if I can't see you, you can't see me" defense mechanism that a lot of species, especially humans, employ.
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| This is Olaf |
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| Speedy keeping safe |
So - some introductions: Thadeus (who strictly speaking is a Thadea) grew up in Andrew's childhood household, and has been part of the family longer than I have. She is a gentle soul, a bit of a leader, confident and comfortable in her own shell. Speedy was rescued by my sister when he was so very tiny. A dog had damaged his shell in several places and so he is more vulnerable and
exposed. He hides a lot, and is skittish, and is only just now venturing further into his fynbos buffet garden. Tolstoy - you have already met - and Olaf are the babies of the group, and heart meltingly gorgeous. Tostoy is the tiniest, and the friendliest of them all. Olaf is the best hider of the group. And then there are Bruin and Brown. These two were rescued from a boutique hotel that was closing, and rehoused with us by American friends who were staying there and concerned for their well being. Bruin is an easy going, get-on-with-everyone type. Brown is not. He is so aggressive that we have had to give him a separate patch of garden away from the others. Every now and then we try to integrate him back into society, but his physical aggression is nasty, and he tries to hurt the others. He hisses at us, and clearly had an unhappy childhoood.
TD once had to wear a tortoise for a week. Before technology had become so sophisticated and accessible- way back in 2017- TD's endocrinologist was worried that some hypoglycemic events (low glucose) were being missed and this could put TD's life in danger. So she attached a "tortoise" to TD (her terminology, not ours). This was a closed system Continuous Glucose Monitor, meaning it gathered and stored glucose information in the sensor, but was only read by the endo at the end of the trial period . She could study the data, together with a food and activity diary, and give feedback. These days, technology has moved so fast that the CGM gives immediate feedback, and TD can adjust her insulin accordingly. The 2017 device was called a tortoise because of it's shape.(and to make it less scary to children....) And maybe because of the slowness of getting data.
I know tortoises are thought of as slow animals, but in my experience, if they want to, they can rumble over rough terrain at quite at pace. Aesop's fable of the hare and the tortoise has the slow and determined tortoise plodding on to win over the overconfident faster competitor. Consistent effort leads to winning the race is the supposed moral of the story. But life isn't a race to be won, is it. And we are not competing with anyone. Diabetes has taught me that there are times to be slow and methodical, and there are times when speed is essential. Yet again, it is all about balance and context, I suppose.
If you want a fix of gorgeousness, we can organise a Zoom meeting between you and a tortoise....although for most of the meeting you may just be staring at some fynbos, until a tortoise appears. Trust me, it's not a bad way to spend an afternoon.
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| Thadeus |
