A Sad Farewell to My Beloved Rosie

Rosie is dead. She passed away while sunning herself on one of Malibu's glorious warm January days. She gave me a warning a few days before that she was not well. Nothing monumental, but knowing her as well as I did, I could see that something was not right, and I said to , "Rosie is dying."

A cantankerous huge old leopard tortoise, she came to American Tortoise Rescue in September 1998 from a confiscation by West LA Animal Shelter. She was among 17 turtles and tortoises that belonged to another tortoise rescuer, Roy Lewis. He was in failing health and sadly stopped feeding his animals. The shelter called us, and after trying to help him care for them, the shelter personnel said that's enough, he must relinquish them to you. He did, after we promised that he could some and visit any time. He never did.  

It must have been sad for Roy, but all 17 animals were starving, sick and looked as if they might die. We had our work cut out for us, but I laughed when I went back through the intake forms this week and found Rosie's. It said hungry and "agitated." Ha! Rosie was always angry, withdrawn and definitely agitated unless I sat down next to her in the leopard yard and gave her a massage. 

She spoke to me in a way that no other tortoise has ever done before or since. I loved that big old girl, and I truly believe that she loved me. Marshall and I used to laugh and call her a frozen turkey. She was the same size and weight. I'd pick her up in her old age and put her in a special tub of water for a soak, and then I would feed her separately so she would always get to eat because the other guys would try to steal her food. Rosie even got to be evacuated once in a fire—she must have hated that!   

We communicated in a silent, loving way, and she loved her back rubs. Rosie didn't like anyone but me. She would stomp away when we had visitors to hole up in her house. When an animal photographer came  (Rosie was at least 80 and maybe even over 100), she refused to cooperate. She kept her head in her shell, and then would start running away whenever she had the chance. After four hours of coaxing, the photographer gave up. No picture was ever taken.

I guess she just felt it was time to go over the Rainbow Bridge even though I did not want her to go. But tortoises are very stubborn. Rosie had a rich and full life, an ocean view, loving back rubs and two people who cared about her so very much.  

I will never forget you, Rosie. You were a silent, but loving old girl. You brought me hours of pleasure and helped me learn so much about the special and incredible bonds we can have with animals. Bye-bye, old girl. I will see you again when I too cross the rainbow bridge.