There’s Maude

Maude’s up, Maude’s up!

This is my second summer of being responsible for Maude, an ornate box turtle. My first year as a turtle keeper was stressful. Everything was okay before winter hibernation, but come spring, Maude and Harold were still nowhere to be found well into June.

Later it seemed apparent that Harold had snuck out of the turtle pen sometime before the cold came, but Maude had stuck around. I still miss Harold and watch for him, but honestly, Maude seems happier without him. For eight years in her previous home, Maude had to put up with Harold’s unwanted advances. Now, having Ms. Vole, Mr. Toady Toad, and me for company seems enough. Yesterday, I noticed Rupert, the youngest feline here, was snoozing in her pen. He never pesters Maude, only seems to like basking in the sun with her.

Although I was thrilled to discover Maude above ground this month, earlier than last year, she didn’t seem herself. She wanted nothing to do with Oscar Meyer wieners or bananas, both of which used to be her favorites. She’d just turn up her nose, push off on her front legs away from her food, and make a beeline for her favorite sunning spot. Time after time I tried having lunch with her, keeping her company, but she wanted no part of it.

I did some research and learned that after brumation (their winter sluggishness), box turtles will typically sunbathe to increase their core temperature and break down any by-products that built up in their muscles during their time underground.

Hibernation and brumation are similar but not the same. Brumation is a winter cool-down period that allows turtles to survive in cold weather and when food is scarce. During this time Maude's metabolism dials back to conserve energy, allowing her to go months without food or water.

For humans, winter is the perfect time to pack on pounds to help us stay warm and keep our energy levels up. Not so with Maude! She needs just the smallest amount of heat, so her heart rate and respiration also slow down and her body temperature drops to match her surroundings. While I was gaining body fat over the winter, Maude was using her body fat for energy.

But brumation doesn’t mean Maude was sleeping, the way a bear would during hibernation. She was still able to move around and she could still hear. So all my cheerful greetings of “Hey Maude, hope you’re doing okay, I’ll see you in spring” while out doing winter chores were likely heard.

It turns out Maude wasn’t herself when she first emerged because she was still warming up her body and exercising her muscles that had been dormant for months. I was relieved to learn this, because I was already imagining how the vet visit would go. I’d explain, “She just doesn’t seem herself. Maude usually gobbles up her food without taking time to breathe,” and so on, while the doctor looked at Maude and me with a what-do-you-expect-me-to-do expression on her face.

So, trusting my research, I left Maude alone for a few weeks to work out her winter kinks and hopefully be herself again.

Meanwhile, her pen had become a tangled mess of weeds and overgrown grasses. So in order to see Maude and visit her in her home habitat, we had to do some weed whacking and trimming. Now it’s more manageable but still has plenty of places for her to crawl under and seek shelter when she needs it.

Finally, Maude was wide awake, limber, and ready to eat. Yesterday, when I offered her lunch, she didn’t hesitate but snatched it all up.

Lunch with Maude is now the highlight of my day. I like to think it is for her too.

And, thanks to my research, after lunch Maude enjoys a daily walk. It’s a tough job keeping up with her. If I pause and look away she scuttles so quickly that it takes me a moment or two to find her. I let her set the pace and the direction.

Next time you're in my neighborhood and see me wandering aimlessly, like I’ve had a few beers, look down. I’m following Maude on her walkabout!