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Herman trying to escape.
Originally uploaded by zoeinbrussels.
Unfortunately for me, that is not Wentworth Miller or Dominic Purcell trying to unsuccessfully escape from Herman’s run, but Herman himself. He does this two or three times a day and can get quite high up, depending on what he’s standing on.
Last week saw Herman’s last ever run around the garden under the Twat’s eagle eye while smoking his shisha pipe. He managed to lose Herman and only when I popped outside after having watched the men’s semis at Wimbledon and realised that the Twat was scrabbling around in the next-door garden did it actually dawn on me that Herman had disappeared.
I lay down alongside the bottom of the hedge on the other side of my garden with the hope of hearing some scrabbling about in the dead leaves but when it was obvious that there was no movement I started to panic and cry.
If the Twat didn’t find Herman that was going to be IT. And he sensed it too so went on a mad search for a tortoise that you can fit into the palm of your hand.
Not an easy task.
For some reason the Twat suspected the other side of the road and so went and listened for any rustling of leaves and BINGO!, he did. With the hope that it wasn’t a mouse, the Twat went around the other side of the fence and listened closely. The movement was slow, unlike mice who shoot across, or birds who hop about so there was a chance that it was Herman.
And there, by the tram tracks, was my tortoise, about to cross over and most likely be squashed by the next passing tram.
Safely back in his run, Herman started munching away on the clover due to the appetite he must have built up after the longest journey that he has ever made.
The Twat is back in the doghouse.
I gave Herman watermelon as a treat.
