See 17 March?
There is a zero, which means Oogway didn't eat any turtle-pellets that day.
Follow the line to the note above: "Angry turtle pee and escape."
I am not fond of heading into Tokyo. It is a terrific city, but many areas are jam-packed; trains can be miserable if you hit peak travel times; concrete and asphalt are not my scene.
So when I must go into the city, I pack my schedule. Get as much done as possible. Take my medicine and get it over with, so to speak.
On that day, my itinerary involved hooking up with two people at opposite ends of the metropolis, one in the morning, one in the afternoon. That might not sound ambitious, but Tokyo is huge. Budget three hours total travel time, two hours with each person. Add an hour to grab a meal and for delays. Eight hours door to door.
Which meant Oogway was alone for that long (actually a bit longer) after our customary morning greeting.
I said hello. She looked upset.
I made small talk. She looked upset.
I offered her food. She looked upset.
I picked her up. She glared. Then released a torrent of pee. Turns out, she really was upset. Pissed off, one might say.
The thing you need to know about cute little pond turtles is that—in defiance of all known laws of physics—the quantity of pee they are capable of discharging can substantially exceed the volume of their entire body. I once described it as peeing "like Niagara Falls to express irritation." That is only a mild exaggeration.
So it was that on 17 March I found myself drenched, sopping wet. The floor was soaked. I made things worse by turning quickly in panic. Picture a firehose of pee forming a magnificent arc in the air, propelled by the centrifugal force I had inadvertently engendered.
To any impartial observer, the scene must have resembled a skit from I Love Lucy or The Benny Hill Show. Complete with audience laugh track. Those few seconds probably would have made for terrific slo-mo video footage, guaranteed to go viral.
It took some time to clean everything. I placed Oogway back in her terrarium. She scaled the wall and escaped.
I was both impressed and dismayed. She had climbed up and over a tall, smooth, slippery wall. Still not sure how she managed that. But she also peed again, creating an archipelago of not-unsubstantial puddles. She peed once more when I approached, giving me her best reptilian stink eye.
As my additional calendar notes document, Oogway's displeasure persisted for some time. It took nearly a week for her to settle down, longer to forgive me.
The conclusion was inescapable.
Oogway was now a teenager.
Unrelated to the Great Pee Incident of 2026, Oogway moved into her outdoor house—a large rectangular flower pot filled with dirt, equipped with an on/ off ramp, a removable bamboo stick roof and a bathing pool under the ramp—on 22 March.
This is where she spends most days during the warm months. She comes in at night, sometimes during the day as well if the mood strikes her. She also has an indoor pool for relaxation and contemplation. Every civilised turtle does.
The photo above shows her on top of the slotted bamboo roof.
It's a mystery how she gets up there. There are no obvious foot/claw-holds. The bamboo roof is not attached. It slips off easily. But she's always been a climber, and she is crafty. It doesn't surprise me (much) when I see her on the roof.
The beauty of the summer house though is the shade.
It gets really hot. Days exceeding 30ºC are normal. (Fahrenheit people: F = C*9/5 + 32)
That would cook an exposed turtle.
As the temperature rises, Oogway retreats to the climate-controlled comfort inside her shelter.
I position the bamboo covering so she can choose to look outside. She can also hide completely under the faux grass area when she's not feeling sociable.
This is all the proof you need to know that she is happy in her summer home:
If you're wondering about the other notes in the calendar and why there were so many days in March when Oogway did not eat, this is the reason:
Mature female Mauremys reevesii pond turtles lay eggs in the spring, irrespective of whether there is a male around or not. Eggs that are not fertilised won't produce babies of course.
During egg-laying time, females lose their appetite. That's the reason for all the zeroes.
Oogway has been big enough to lay eggs for a few years now, but she's never actually done so.
The note "Egg stuff start" in the calendar is a reference to white stuff Oogway leaves in the water. It's probably material that would be have been used for eggs, but is expelled instead. She's done this for several years, so we're accustomed to it.
We worried in the beginning. She's been healthy and happy throughout (except for on 17 March), so we don't worry as much now.
The photo above is from the morning of 16 April, when Oogway dug a hole. For the first time ever.
"Giddy" is perhaps a good word to describe the babbling idiot I became. It seemed as if our little Oogway would finally lay eggs.
She spent over an hour making the perfect hole. Just the right width, perfect depth.
I watched. Waited. Camera in hand.
Then Oogway covered the hole. Flattened the dirt so there was no hint of earlier excavation.
No eggs. Bummer.
On the positive side, she's got the whole dig-hole-fill-hole thing mastered now.
Baby steps.
Winter is actually when we spend the most time together.
When Oogway first came to live with us, I happened to meet one of Japan's top turtle doctors. Yeah, I didn't know there was such a thing either.
I learned that pond turtles like Oogway can hibernate, but that they don't have to. He said that some young turtles that hibernate never wake up. The smaller they are, the greater the risk. I wasn't willing to take that risk.
Oogway is big enough now that she has enough energy packed away to make it through hibernation, but we've spent every winter together. It's a thing. She has an indoor play area. I let her roam around when I can keep an eye on her. She knows the floor layout and has her favourite places. She talks a lot. I talk back. We chat.
More than anything though, she like to hang out with me. Or rather, to make use of me as a combination jungle-gym and heated recreational centre.
That's her this past winter. The oversized orange fleece pullover is big enough to give her space to sleep in the front pocket of my grey hoodie (which I have on underneath the fleece pullover), then emerge to look around when she feels like it.
She climbs up my body, using the material of the grey hoodie for traction, the orange fleece above her for comfort and warmth. She pops out under my chin or at my shoulder. It's like the juvenile xenomorph in the movie Alien bursting out of its host's chest, except Oogway is cute and friendly.
She also helps me work.
Helping me work = giving me an excuse to do ridiculous things as a means of not actually doing any work. It is hard work being ridiculous. Which is why I need Oogway's help.
To wrap-up this commemoration of eight years having passed since Oogway became part of the family, I dug up a series of photos to illustrate her growth.
When she was almost three, we discovered that Oogway likes to embed herself in soft, fluffy pockets.
I can't remember how she got into that fleece pocket, but there she was, snug and happy. I am not sure if all turtles of her species enjoy and appreciate such creature comforts, or if it's an acquired taste. She may have developed her fondness for such spaces from spending her younger years riding around in my pockets (cargo pants pockets in warm weather, sweatshirt pockets in colder weather).
This is Oogway a few months later in the same pocket:
The following winter, she had outgrown that soft space, so I got her an upgrade—a fluffy slipper:
She eventualy got too big for the slipper. Next was a foot warmer (a cute one of course, this being Japan):
It takes some time for Oogway to accept new things. Perhaps turtles are cautious by nature?
When she did finally decide to make use of the foot-warming pocket, Oogway entered head first. And went to sleep.
She eventually worked out how to turn around to face outward, but I like this photo the most, because...well...it's so cute.
I had to find an even bigger space for her this past winter. It's always a bit of a challenge, because you can't really walk into a store and ask someone to show you a selection of snuggly pockets for homebody turtles with a penchant for fluffiness.
While shopping one day (i.e., standing around looking absurdly bored while holding shopping bags and doing my best to smile) I saw a holder for a warm-water bottle—the kind you use to heat your belly in the winter—and thought, "Hmmm, I wonder if Oogway would fit in that?" Not the intended use for the product, but as it turned out, perfect for the purpose:
Oogway took to the pocket within a few days. There's enough space for her to fit inside with room to move around. It's lined with plush, soft material. She can peek out when she wants. She can retreat to the back and lower the flap for privacy when she wants alone-time.
Happy Birthday Oogway!
Related Posts:
- Oogway Turns Seven
- Oogway is Six
- Five and a Half Years
- Oogway Visits the Doctor
- Oogway is Five
- Oogway’s Third Anniversary
- Oogway Update December 2020
- Oogway Is Two Years Old Today
- Oogway Update
- Oogway's One Year Anniversary
- Mornings With Oogway
- The Dream of the Brown Turtle
- A Christmas Tail 2
- Turtles Are Fast
- Oogway’s Progress
- Oogway’s Outing
- Adopting Oogway