You know how every non-fiction book in the last three years has been about the author doing one odd, life-disrupting thing for one full year and then writing a book about it? I'm reading one of those books a week for one full year and then writing a book about it. It's My Year Of Everything, and you're soaking in it. CONTACT: Dave Holmes/davedotcom@mac.com

 

So here are some things that happened this afternoon that I am not lying about:
Ben came in from getting the mail and said, “There’s a giant tortoise loose outside.”
“Oh. Okay. What?”
“There’s a giant tortoise loose outside. Come look.”
I went and looked. There was a giant tortoise loose outside. He was walking through the yard across the street, and going pretty fast. There were four other neighbors standing around watching, two of whom had been following him since he walked through their their own yard three blocks away. Nobody knew what to do. So we all stood and watched for a while longer.
“Is he a pet?” “Do we call animal control?” “Can we pick him up, or will he bite?” There were a lot of questions, and nobody had answers.
People started to slow down as they drove past, and a few took pictures. We asked everyone, “Is this your giant tortoise?” After the third one, when they said no, I started adding, “Would you like a giant tortoise?” No takers.
A woman in a housecoat walked over. We asked: “Is this your tortoise?” She said: “No. Mine’s in the backyard. But it might be my son’s.” She walked over to him, checked his shell for markings, and said: “No. He don’t look like Torty.”
TORTY.
At around this time, the giant tortoise was starting to walk into the street, which we tried to discourage him from doing, because people drive fast on our street. Eric, who apparently is a personal trainer and my neighbor, picked him up and turned him back toward grass. He strained to do so, and estimated the giant tortoise’s weight at about 60 pounds.
Just then, another neighbor came from around the corner. He asked: “Is that Steve’s giant tortoise?” To which we responded: “Who’s Steve?” He got a good look at the giant tortoise and said, “I’ll put him in my truck and bring him to Steve’s. If it’s not his, then at least he’ll be safe there. If you start seeing signs for a lost tortoise, call the number and tell them he’s at Steve’s.”
We agreed to do so. We don’t know who Steve is or where he lives.
But we do now know that at least three of our neighbors own giant tortoises.

So here are some things that happened this afternoon that I am not lying about:

Ben came in from getting the mail and said, “There’s a giant tortoise loose outside.”

“Oh. Okay. What?”

“There’s a giant tortoise loose outside. Come look.”

I went and looked. There was a giant tortoise loose outside. He was walking through the yard across the street, and going pretty fast. There were four other neighbors standing around watching, two of whom had been following him since he walked through their their own yard three blocks away. Nobody knew what to do. So we all stood and watched for a while longer.

“Is he a pet?” “Do we call animal control?” “Can we pick him up, or will he bite?” There were a lot of questions, and nobody had answers.

People started to slow down as they drove past, and a few took pictures. We asked everyone, “Is this your giant tortoise?” After the third one, when they said no, I started adding, “Would you like a giant tortoise?” No takers.

A woman in a housecoat walked over. We asked: “Is this your tortoise?” She said: “No. Mine’s in the backyard. But it might be my son’s.” She walked over to him, checked his shell for markings, and said: “No. He don’t look like Torty.”

TORTY.

At around this time, the giant tortoise was starting to walk into the street, which we tried to discourage him from doing, because people drive fast on our street. Eric, who apparently is a personal trainer and my neighbor, picked him up and turned him back toward grass. He strained to do so, and estimated the giant tortoise’s weight at about 60 pounds.

Just then, another neighbor came from around the corner. He asked: “Is that Steve’s giant tortoise?” To which we responded: “Who’s Steve?” He got a good look at the giant tortoise and said, “I’ll put him in my truck and bring him to Steve’s. If it’s not his, then at least he’ll be safe there. If you start seeing signs for a lost tortoise, call the number and tell them he’s at Steve’s.”

We agreed to do so. We don’t know who Steve is or where he lives.

But we do now know that at least three of our neighbors own giant tortoises.


  1. sarahbella reblogged this from clambistro and added:
    Can I have a giant tortoise now, please?
  2. rainbowhill reblogged this from clambistro and added:
    Never mind “who’s Steve?”, the question surely must be “why are tortoises a neighbourhood pet fetish?” This is one of...
  3. chompers reblogged this from myyearofeverything
  4. seanbury reblogged this from spytap and added:
    This looks a lot like a Gopher Tortoise — is this in Florida / Georgia / southeast? I had a Gopher Tortoise growing up...
  5. mdfsmash reblogged this from spytap and added:
    Best thing I’ve read all day :)
  6. ultrascorponic reblogged this from mercurypdx
  7. spytap reblogged this from myyearofeverything
  8. diggabug reblogged this from ipomoeaandthestarstealers and added:
    … on a “fixie”.
  9. ipomoeaandthestarstealers reblogged this from smoozed and added:
    Well, there’s one good reason to like Burien. I think if there was a giant tortoise on Cap Hill, someone would have...
  10. smoozed reblogged this from ipomoeaandthestarstealers and added:
    Burien, because this exact thing happened to me! Except my neighbor’s tortoise is named Timmy and enjoys Cheetos.
  11. neutralangel reblogged this from pwrbttmhasmoved
  12. pwrbttmhasmoved reblogged this from jrichmanesq
  13. jessicacohn reblogged this from myyearofeverything