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Frankie

Frankie

June 29, 2019

Going Home


Hello, Frankie, how are you?
I am great!  This place…this place is fantastic!  Where is this?
This is where you’re meant to be.  We’ve been waiting for you.
Am I dead?
Your body was no longer needed.  Your spirit is forever free
Can I still have carrots and dandelions?
Of course! 
And Mom, is she here?
Someday, just not today.  Her spirit still has much to do.  We’ll wait for her, too.
Am I here because I was finished?
Pets are special.  Pets are animals who choose to help a human soul.  The human path is never easy.  Your human needed your help.
But now she is alone.
She is never alone. 
I love her so much. Can I still help? 
You can help.  Visit her dreams.  Whisper she is not alone. Be her comfort. 
I will.  I'll never leave her alone. I'll see her every night.  Thank you for waiting for me. Thank you for waiting for her.
We’re glad you’re here. Now, if you haven’t noticed, there are dandelions to eat, lawn chairs to push and fences to topple.  Go get ‘em, Frankie!
They will never know what hit them…..



Frankie died June 29, 2019 from Pneumonia or Lower Respiratory Infection.  We fought for 80 days, did all we possibility could, took him to the best veterinarians, tried various drugs, gladly spent the money, and much more to help him recover.

We'll miss his antics and his determined personality so much.

Thank you all his friends who delighted in his stories.

November 15, 2018

Renovate 'da Fence

This year turned out to be very wet, damp, rainy, drenched, soggy....well, you get the picture.  Frankie's yard never saw a lack of water.  I only turned on the hose to clean and fill Frankie's big-honking mini-pool water dish.  I cringed every time it needed cleaning dumping even more water on the lawn.  Pool always needs cleaning.  Where else is a 110 pound sulcata going to pee?  In the yard.  Perish the thought.  Frankie pees right in front of the patio door or in the pool.

Am I a bit grumpy?  Maybe.  There are good reasons.

So, lots of rain, rain washing away grass seed, water flowing down hill, mud splashes, water pools at fence, Frankie has a second place to soak and play in mud.
Frankie's Mud Pit

We build that fence real good.  Extra wide horizontal boards to keep Frankie from pushing through the pickets. Pickets thicker than the standard size, used screws rather than nails....

...because, yes, big sulcatas can take down a fence.

So, back to the extraordinary amount of rain we get in Mobile.

I noted, on one of my walks through the yard followed closely by Frankie would wouldn't think of letting me walk alone, that dirt was really beginning to pile up against the fence.  As regular maintenance I dig out the dirt that rain has washed from the high ground to along the fence at the lower part of the yard.

Frankie is always cranky about my digging in his yard so he watches with keen interest.

I dig until I see pickets and as I suspected, five years of rain and muck has rotted out the bottoms.  Further investigation of the horizontal board shows there is some deterioration to the point where the wood is spongy.  I note that about fifteen pickets and one horizontal board need replacing.

Leaving Frankie who gladly stays to double check my work, I head back to the house to discuss with my newly retired husband that we have repairs to make on the fence.

Newly retired and still recovering from working full-time for 40 some odd years, hubby decides repairs can wait a day or two.  Fine.  I'll go back and do some more digging in preparation for those repairs.  The fence was built tough and will last a couple more days.  Yes?  Right.

I'm grumpy.  I dunno.  Maybe it's because I've been a house-maintainer and Frankie Keeper for going on 20 years so I am not recovering from full-time working.  I do house, geckos, cat, hubby and Frankie so I am not bored.  So, yes, I'll work on the fence.

Apparently Frankie had the very same idea.  He was bored so he started taking down the fence for me.

Yep, Frankie discovered that if he pushed just right on the spongy-from-water-rot horizontal board screws would slide right through and POP! fence was coming down.

Frankie deserves the nick-name Monster.  The whole neighborhood heard me screaming, "NO!  You stinkin' Monster! Frankie!  Stop!"  I am cutting back on my cussing.

One carrot later and I've got Frankie off the fence which is dangling by the top where the wood isn't rotting.  While Frankie eats carrots to keep him away from the fence I spend the rest of the day replacing pickets and shoring up spongy bottom boards.  The Hubby has to help with the bottom board but he is still in Early Retirement Recovery so that will happen another day.  The fence is okay.  For now.

No this isn't over yet.

Two days later, I catch Frankie doing fence maintenance.  Frankie has taken it upon himself to point out another overlooked section of rotting wood including a fence post that I catch the Monster Frankie attempting to severe from the cement holding it in place.

At this point why even bother yelling?  I turn around, go into the house, grab tools and a bag of carrots and tell hubby that rest and relaxation ends and fence repairs begin.  Now.  Seriously, now. 

Blaw, blaw, blaw, three hours, repair fence, we shake heads as we look at Frankie incredulously.

Monster.

September 7, 2018

Frankie's First Hurricane


Made it through our first official Hurricane on the coast.  Well, we were visiting family in Oklahoma so technically we participated from afar. 

Frankie, on the other hand, made it through his first official Hurricane. 

From afar, guiding caretakers on how to secure the sulcata monster in a hurricane proved to be a challenge. 

Frankie, geckos and cat had a morning Care-Taker, a mid-take Checker, and a evening shift Care-Taker.  Everyone had specific tasks from petting cat, watering geckos, feeding box turtles, petting cat, and last but not least, taking care of the 17 year old, 115 pound sulcata tortoise once known as Frankie but currently going by the name of Monster, and petting cat.  

Of all the care instructions, Frankie's seemed simple:  Make sure he is in yard, keep water filled, and throw him a carrot every day.  Sounds very simple, right?

The day the Morning Care-Taker showed up for training she did the unthinkable:  she wore an orange shirt.  The minute she stepped out in yard Frankie pursued her like the Cookie Monster pursues cookies. 

Reviewing care instructions while she dodged Frankie at every step was challenging.  She absolutely got why one THROWS the carrot rather than attempting to hand feed Frankie the carrot. 

(Everyone wants to hand feed the sulcata tortoise.  He has no interest in eating human fingers but a finger between him and the carrot can result in one losing one's finger.)

All care takers were told:  THROW THE CARROT. 

The biggest challenge was making sure Frankie was in his shelter during the hurricane.  In his shelter is a sturdy wooden box that would keep him safe.  Get in the box, Frankie, just get in the box. 

Early on, Frankie was annoyed enough by the rain to go into his shelter.  As Mid-Hurricane approached the Care-Taker followed instructions and closed the main door and dropped the flap over Frankie's smaller door. 

Sometime after she left, Frankie decided it was too hot and muggy to stay inside and pushed through his door flap. 

When the next Care Taker returned later she found Frankie sitting outside in the rain just before dark and hours before the peak of the hurricane.  The situation became tense. 

Can one explain over the phone how to lift a 115 pound sulcata tortoise during a hurricane and get him back inside his shelter?  Ya' can't. Neither could I expect anyone to endanger themselves when they should be home securing their own families. 

Frankie had planted himself between the fence and the shed.  He would get rained on but he would not get flooded.  There were no dangerous trees that would fall on him.  He chose wisely although any choice to be outside in a hurricane I though was stupid. 

Greg and I changed plans.  We left Oklahoma six hours earlier than planned, eliminated an overnight hotel stop, and drove straight through. 

The Hurricane turned out to be on the lower end of bad. Thank goodness.

The Morning Care-Taker arrived to find Frankie still in the same spot.  He refused to move or un-tuck his head.  Any attempt to sooth or touch him resulted in an aggressive backward ram and hiss. 

It took a carrot to get him to pull his head from behind his legs.  (The orange shirt would be useful in this situation)

The Care Taker called us (we were now in Mississippi) to tell us he was alive but "very angry."  She also said the cat desperately needed us to get home.

We arrived late that evening.  First stop, after petting the cat, was backyard to check Frankie.  He was in his shelter, in his box but did not acknowledge me.  A poke to his front foot confirmed that he was very much alive. In the morning he was much the same:  un-moving and refusing to acknowledge me. 

Time for a Wellness Test.  A carrot dangling close to his nose and a teasing "wanna treat, Frankie?" drew his head out enough to see that he okay.  He consumed the carrot in less than 20 second confirming he was in good health.

Frankie emerged from his shelter a bit later and spent most of the morning camped out by the backdoor.  His plastic lawn chairs (secured during the storm) were returned to the porch and he moved them about until he was satisfied they were in their rightful place. 

All considering, we emerged from our first hurricane in good shape.  Frankie braved the storm. 

We did find something serious we overlooked.  Even if Frankie had decided he wanted back into his shelter later that night he could not have gotten inside.  The flap on his door allows for him to get out but does not reverse direction to let him back inside.  Something we have to fix. 

If we don't fix it Frankie Monster may just ram himself a new door.