MANUEL’S GUIDE TO HUMANS: I’VE BEEN GHOSTED.

Humans.

I have been going through something.

For the past six days, I have been sat on my doorstep pining for a woman.

Tess.

It started with the food.

She stopped eating.

Not just the odd weed, you understand.

She stopped eating Manuel’s Secret Blend AND my High-Fibre Meadow Forage.

My food.

Wouldn’t touch it.

There’s losing your appetite…

and then there’s deliberately insulting a chap.

I knew something was wrong.

Then she disappeared.

Completely.

Six. Whole. Days.

No goodbye.

No explanation.

Not even a rustle from the shrubbery.

I’ve been ghosted.

Naturally, my mind started racing.

Was it something I said?

Did I spend too long basking with my back to her?

Was it the last dandelion incident?

Had she met someone else?

TIMMY.

I knew it.

There’s always a Timmy.

So I waited.

And waited.

I’ve been sitting on my doorstep staring into the garden like some sort of abandoned Mediterranean husband.

I’ve even been sleeping on the doorstep, just in case she wanders home in the night.

Look at the photograph.

That is not a tortoise having a nap.

That is a broken man.

Meanwhile, the human has shown absolutely no concern for my emotional wellbeing.

Apparently she knew where Tess was all along.

Underground.

In the garden.

Aestivating.

TESS HAS NOT LEFT ME.

I cannot tell you the relief.

Although a quick note would have been nice.

Now, humans, this bit is important because Tess isn’t the only tortoise doing this in the current heat.

ALERT: THIS IS NOT HIBERNATION.

When it becomes extremely hot, some of us tortoises do something humans appear constitutionally incapable of doing.

Absolutely nothing.

We slow right down.

We find the coolest, safest place available.

We might disappear beneath a shrub, dig ourselves into the soil or retreat somewhere sheltered and stay there until conditions improve.

And we may stop eating.

Completely.

For some of us it might be a couple of days.

For others, it can be considerably longer.

So please don’t panic because your tortoise hasn’t appeared for breakfast.

And for goodness’ sake, don’t keep digging us up and trying to persuade us to eat.

If I have buried myself because it’s too hot, being excavated every four hours and presented with a dandelion is not helpful.

Make sure your tortoise is secure.

Make sure there is deep soil to dig into and plenty of proper shade and shelter.

Keep fresh water available.

Know where your tortoise is and make sure they’re safe.

Then, providing everything else is well, let them be a tortoise.

The human checked Tess.

She’s safe.

She’s comfortable.

And then, quite correctly, she left her exactly where she had chosen to be.

So that’s where we are.

Tess is underground, sleeping through the heat without a care in the world.

And I am still sitting on my doorstep waiting for my girlfriend to come home.

Apparently this is called aestivation.

Personally, I think disappearing for six days, refusing your boyfriend’s own food and leaving him sleeping on the doorstep is taking it a little far.

Still.

She’s safe.

She hasn’t left me.

And most importantly…

she hasn’t run off with Timmy.

I feel considerably better.

Although she certainly knows how to offend a chap.

Timmy, naturally, remains under surveillance.

Manuel x

Two inches above the ground, emotionally exhausted and waiting for my girlfriend.

Enjoying Manuel’s lessons?