Oogway Turns Seven Years Old

Oogway and I have an understanding.

I listen when she talks. I do what she wants.

In return, she entertains me.

A couple of weeks ago, just as I was thinking about how to photograph her to commemorate the seventh anniversary of her unexpected arrival, she decided to climb on top of the roof of her warm-weather play area.

oogway on bamboo roof — Turtle on a hot bamboo roof

I cracked up the moment I saw her, looking at me like, “Hey, how’s it going?” as if it were completely normal for a turtle to summit a slippery, unattached bamboo mat draped in a haphazard fashion over sparse wire mesh.

How she got up there is not obvious. There is a slope for her to climb up from the ground into the covered area, which is filled with soil. But there is no ramp or path, no stable surface to scale to where she was perched. I am guessing she made use of the wall somehow, but she is big now, too big to hold comfortably with one hand. Let’s just say that in circumstances involving marked shifts in altitude, gravity would not be her friend. Even more perplexing was that the bamboo mat was not disheveled, suggesting there had been no scrambling involved. Her journey from first floor to roof seems to have been uneventful, routine.

I dunno.

I just knew that I had to photograph her before she or the mat moved. The only lens I had handy was a 55mm f1.2 from the 1970s. Not ideal, but using it afforded me the opportunity to think, “Huh, I’ll bet the lens designer never envisioned a buffoon on a balcony photographing a turtle atop a sun-baked bamboo roof.”

oogway mauremys reevesii turtle — Chilling turtle

Oogway is enjoying spring, as she does each year. More than anything, it is being outdoors again that she seems to relish, understandable after several months spent entirely indoors. Pictured above (from a different day), she is sitting at the top of the slope to her summer house—a favourite spot for basking in the sun. If there's one thing turtles know how to do well, it's basking.

It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy being inside when it is cold. She does. She wanders around, sits on top of my feet (or on my body when I let her), chatters a lot (see Oogway is Six for audio of her talking), kicks back in various soft, snuggly places.

One thing that has been consistent over the years is that she doesn’t sleep much when people are around. I don’t think it has anything to do with noise or commotion. She just seems to be interested in what everyone is doing.

I managed to catch her taking a nap this past winter, nestled in the folds of her favourite fuzzy blanket. It is only the third time I’ve been able to photograph her asleep. You can see her nictitating membrane closed in the picture on the right. I don't know about you, but seeing a stress-free sleeping turtle makes me all mushy inside.

sleeping mauremys reevesii turtle — Oogway comfy in one of her snuggly places

The biggest surprise over the past twelve months happened in April, when the weather was just beginning to enter turtle-friendly zone. Oogway had not yet been outside since coming indoors for winter late last year.

I put her out on the balcony just before breakfast. Like us, turtles need to spend time in the sun to produce vitamin D. Having been inside for the better part of five months at that point, Oogway could do with a few hours in the sun. She would like it. Or so I thought.

When I returned to check on her later, this is what I saw:

You might not be familiar with the nuances of chelonian facial expressions, but for those in-the-know, there is no mistaking this face.

That is a turtle in a foul mood.

A video to clarify:

You might recall that Oogway taught herself to open the screen door when she wants to come back inside.

Thinking that she would not be coming back in for some time, I closed the heavy glass door, leaving just a small space, as you see in the video.

Oogway tried to come back inside while I was having breakfast. She slid the screen door open but was stymied by the glass door, which is of course much too heavy for her to move.

I had to go out to run some errands, so I decided it was best to leave her outside until I got back.

When I returned in the evening, Oogway was at the far end of the balcony. I called to her, held out my hand. That’s our routine for “It’s time to come home.” She’ll amble over, look up, climb aboard for the lift back inside.

Step-by-step, she approached my hand—as she always does—then veered around and passed right by. She did not look at me. She did not slow down. She raced past (at turtle speeding pace) and kept right on going. She did this several times, making a big show of traversing huge loops around my hand, but never actually approaching my hand. Her movements were emphatic, exaggerated for diva-like effect.

Turns out, turtles can be quite the drama queens.

I am not sure what the accepted protocol is in this situation—when an adopted stray turtle is angry with you because you left her outside when she wanted to come inside even though you did it because it was the first truly warm day of the year and you thought she would benefit from the nice weather and sunshine—but in hindsight, it probably didn’t help that I giggled.

Mea culpa.

Oogway is a generous soul. She has forgiven me. We are best friends again.

On this occasion of Oogway turning seven, I thought I’d share a video from our first few weeks together after her arrival in 2018. It’s sped up just a little bit, I seem to recall around 10% when I edited, but this is one of the ways we used to spend time together in warm weather. All we needed back then for her to get some exercise was sunshine and my hands. (Note for the video end credits: I did not know if Oogway was a boy or girl back then. Oogway’s long tail made me think boy—male sea turtles have longer tails than females—but it took a few years before it was possible to figure out that Oogway is a girl.)

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