The Omnivorous Adventures of My Red-Footed Tortoises

Many tortoises are vegetarians, but my red-footed tortoises are a unique bunch. They roam free throughout my house, enjoying the heat lamp and UVB basking light I’ve set up for them. They seem to have a sixth sense for when I’m preparing a meal in the kitchen. The three red-footeds (Myrtle, Gladiola, and Rose) make their way over, not exactly running, but with a purposeful stride.

I wonder if they’re hoping some tasty tidbit will fall from above onto the floor for their consumption or if they would like to be near me while I’m standing. After all, I continually have issues with Myrtle pushing my wheeled chair when writing. Often, I find myself being moved farther and farther away from my laptop on the table. Is she doing this to annoy me and get more attention from me, or is she doing her daily strength-building exercises?

Myrtle the tortoise pushing an office chair across a tile floor.

Feeding my Red-Footed Tortoises

Sometimes, they will gather under my bed at night for a chat fest. The vet called them “noisy breathers,” but I think they are just chatty. Their whispering voices sound like conversations.

Red-footed tortoises are omnivores, which means they eat both plants and animals for food. In my house, their diet is nearly all vegetables with some beans (legumes) for plant protein.  Previously, BTD (before the dog), I would give them a bit of animal protein once a month. Usually, some cooked chicken or a bit of egg was provided.  However, since I acquired the dog, I don’t put out meat for them. Max, the dog, would get to it before they did (he supervises the morning feeding). I put the tortoises’ food on the floor in the front room.  Nothing stops a keen-nosed dog from finding anything he might enjoy eating, even if it is on the tortoises’ plates. I admit, it’s been a while since they got any chicken.

Recently, the tortoises have been nipping at my toes. I don’t wear nail polish, so it’s not like they are mistaking my toes for pieces of fruit. I had a sore big toe they seemed to zero in on; maybe the swelling was attracting their interest. There was lots of blood near the surface.

People often wonder if reptiles, being lower vertebrates, can communicate with people. I’ve had no trouble interacting with and understanding my iguanas.  Tortoises are a bit more reticent.  Mine definitely have their own personalities. Unless, of course, I am standing at the counter in the kitchen preparing food for someone. Then they circle around and over my feet, pushing between the cabinets and my ankles. This can be painful since they have very dense shells and powerful legs. If I have a fall in my house, it will be because I turn to take a step and trip over a tortoise who wasn’t there a moment before!

Gladiola the tortoise walking across Elaine's tile floor.

The Great Meat Debate

The toe-nipping was becoming a regular occurrence. But one day, the tortoises decided to up the ante. Instead of biting a toe, Gladiola came up and bit my calf. It wasn’t a cute little nibble, but a full-fledged bite. I was shocked at first, but then I couldn’t help but be amused. I laughingly chastised her, ‘Don’t do it again,’ I told her. But she didn’t seem to get the message and bit me again! It was clear they were seeking some meat.

Thankfully, I was only bruised and not bloodied. But I got the message loud and clear. The tortoises were telling me that they, dog or no dog, expected some occasional meat. I understood their needs, but I still had to contend with that dog and his efficient chicken-sniffing nose.

After I fed Max, he tended to take a morning nap, often in his bed in my bedroom.  After I walked him to do his morning duty, I fed him and sent him off for a snooze.  Then, I slipped a good amount of protein onto the tortoises’ plates. I gathered them around their breakfast to ensure they consumed the chicken before that nosy dog awoke.

Success. Chicken consumed. Meat request fulfilled.  At least, I hope so. The circling of the tortoises continues, but the nibbling is back to gentle nips of the toes.

If they wanted meat, they only needed to say so! 

If you enjoyed reading about my red-footed tortoises, you might be interested in checking out my published books about these fascinating creatures.

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