There is only one legal way to gain custody of a Desert Tortoise in Arizona and that is through adoption. One does not simply walk in and walk out. One must first display one’s fitness for assuming such responsibility. But rather than my own personal makeup, what the Phoenix Herpetological Society seemed most concerned with was my yard. Did it have shade? Was it fenced in? Did it have room to roam? I had to take photos to prove it.
The next hurdle was to find the damn place in order to drop off my paperwork. The address listed on their website turned out to be a PO Box at a mailbox store in a strip mall in Scottsdale. When I walked in the bank next door to inquire about a Herpetological Society, the tellers knew nothing. However, I did learn that the manager raised tortoises herself and had babies to give away. I could have gone black market, but I didn’t want a bastard tortoise. I wanted one with papers, with legitimacy. What if Sherriff Arpaio did a round up?
Turns out the actual Phoenix Herpetological Society is located in a converted house off Dynamite Road near Scottsdale Road. When I got there to deliver my papers, the gate didn’t work so I had to hand my file through the bars. A quick review got me an invitation back that Saturday morning at 9am for orientation. Saturday morning at 9am? How much did I really want this little Gopherus agassizii in my life?
Come Saturday morning the gates were wide open and the place was crawling with people, not to mention reptiles. They had the tortoises numbered and loaded in plastic bins. We humans were numbered as well in the order we would be allowed to choose. I came up 12 out of about 30. In front of me, at number 11, were parents with a young daughter and son. Behind me stood a gay couple who were suspiciously knowledgeable of desert tortoises, I thought, considering the strict prohibition, clearly posted on the web site, against owning more than one. I considered it, but decided not to turn them in. I realized I had bigger things to think about.
Since these tortoises can live to over 100 years, I was about to make a choice I would have to live with for a long, long time. But like the NBA draft, it wasn’t just about which tortoise you want, it’s about whose going to be available when your pick comes up. A mammoth size tortoise, over a foot in length was constantly tipping his bin over, impressively scattering lettuce on the path. You always want to draft a high-energy big guy, but would he be available at number 12? Doubting it, I scanned the other tortoises for more options.
In the end, I selected Maurice-Pierre, for his lively nature and the higher rise in his shell. When I picked him up, his legs churned in the air in a vain effort to escape, and I looked around anxiously for a box to carry him in. For a moment, I was nearly overwhelmed by the sheer responsibility of the life, albeit reptilian, I held in my hands. Why hadn’t I drafted, I mean, chosen a more docile tortoise? Would I even manage to get out of the parking lot with him? The Herpetology Society had tagged him so they would immediately know what an unfit tortoise adopter I was! Fortunately, I found a box and got him home. We’ve both been acclimating since.
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