Tortoise in Need of The Force on Star Wars Day

We've reached a serious low point in the Grumples-Boy Overdrive house.  ET is in hospital.  You might as well send me off to the mad house if he dies.  I can't lose two kids in the space of 4 months.  That is just not acceptable to my very sensitive self.  I am a delicate flower.  I bend easily.  This is just not okay.  I have no idea how dire the situation is right now.  Right now we have to wait and spend a night sans ET, while he ass trumpets and blows bubbles with his nose.  I hope they gave him a nice bed and was allowed to watch at least four hours of television before bedtime.  I'm sure he will not be able to sleep without the black Bear lazing on top of his tank drifting hair and litter down on top of him.

While ET gets poked, x-rayed, flushed cloaca and tube-fed, I can only mope about and think of when Wikus gave me a little baby ET in a paper bag.  He was the size of a half-dollar.  In a paper bag!  I couldn't even tell there was anything in the paper bag at all.  Precipitating this monumental event was the very sad death of my dear box turtle, Enry.  Crossing the country in a U-Haul with Wikus from Boston to San Diego was a bit terrifying and exhilarating (seriously, Wikus almost killed us in Tennessee, but we survived, so for now, I won't rub his face in it); then, one morning in Las Cruces after waking in our tent to a chilly morning, we found Henry dead in his Tupperware home.  We don't know if it was the cold weather or if it was a coincidence.  We were in denial for a bit, and finally laid him to rest in rest stop along the highway leading to Arizona.  So, Wikus got me ET. 

ET has grown in to quite a hefty adolescent.  If someone broke in to my house, I was always secure in the knowledge that I could beam the violator in the temple with ET, and ET wouldn't even be bothered by it.  He would just do a bit of a tortoise shrug, and say, "It ain't no thing."  When I'm not obsessing about being robbed in the dark of night, I am completely content watching him eat his food.  There is nothing more charming than watching ET open his mouth, stick out his tongue, then close his mouth--sometimes with food on it, sometimes not.  It's magical.  Only Bunbun comes close in eating awesomeness.  Watching him make floaty poos when bathing is pretty cool, too.  It might be hard to believe, but once you see it, you'll totally understand the beauty of a tortoise appreciating a good soaking.  It really relaxes him.

Right now I have to be patient and try to freak out too much.  If he makes it through this, I really need to come through with making him an outdoor shanty.  He deserves space to roam and graze.  I'll hang a hammock (erm, on some metal stands) right next to the outdoor pen, drink some sparkling water and watch him sticking his tongue out at some hay.  If this comes to pass, I'll be sure to film it and share it with all of you.  When ET is big enough, I'll get a kitten and have him ride on ET's back.  Salmonella be damned, it will be cute as all get out, and I won't be stopped for disgustingly cute animal pictures.  I might be puking in my hand while watching it, but I think we can all agree that it will be totally worth it.

Wee ET.  Approximately one-year old.