Turtle Lovers Stop Hiding Under a Shell

“They don’t talk back, and they don’t bite the mailman.”

So says a smitten Eric Akaba, who keeps about 30 turtles and tortoises as pets in his Culver City home and goes slightly gaga over them. So do most turtle fanciers, which seems a mite peculiar to the uninitiated, who find the plodding, toothless reptiles slow but dumb. To which aficionados reply, with varying degrees of patience:

Dumb? With a brain the size of a marble, the beast is bright enough to have hung around for 300 million years, which is more than you can say of the dinosaur. Not to mention mammals.

No Particular Hurry

Slow? Everything is relative. A tortoise would take five hours to walk a mile, if it had a mind to. Then again, what’s the hurry? The tortoise eats plants, and they’re not going anywhere. (Besides, nobody’s gaining on them; even then, they’d just pull into the shell station until things blow over.)

Curious about these inscrutable pets? Wonder what the difference is between a turtle and a tortoise? What they eat? How long they live? Do they come when you call them? Come and meet fanciers and experts Sunday at the 25th annual meeting of the Westchester Chapter of the California Turtle and Tortoise Club. It’s from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. at the Torrance Recreation Center, 3341 Torrance Blvd., Torrance, and it’s open to the public.

And lest you think a tortoise is just slightly more interesting than cabbage, consider these comments from Angelenos who’ve known and loved them:

Elaine Sludikoff: “My tortoise is quiet, she’s sweet, she enjoys her flower petals. She gives me a lot of peace and serenity. Just watching a turtle walk, munching her way around the yard, I find I relax.”

Will Watson: “I’ve raised mine from eggs, and they’re fascinating. They really are. I can watch them for hours. They have their own moods: One is aggressive, another shy; some are active, some passive. One undersized male I have just lies in ambush in the shade, then attacks like a little tank and rams another male. In the winter they all bury the hatchet and hibernate together.”

(You can tell the gender by turning the turtle and observing the plastron (undershell). The male’s plastron has a groovy little indentation, a concave scoop, for better purchase. Females are flat, for egg space.)

Linda Robb, 10: “They’re nice. They don’t make noise, like my sister Sarah does.”

Marlyn Goldenberg: “Just because they don’t drool all over you and wag their tails doesn’t mean they’re not affectionate. I tell them ‘Have a nice day’ when I leave for work, and they know . I project love to them and they project it back. They have their own bowls, but sometimes Missy will hold her little friend under the water and eat her food.”

It’s typical turtle talk and it’s contagious--well worth the $2 donation the Westchester Club asks ($1.50 for seniors 60 and older; children under 12 free), call (213) 649-0578. And should you adopt one or two, you’ll actually be doing them a favor.

“Of the nine eggs I had, four hatched,” Jan Gordon says. “In the wild, maybe 10% survive.”

But if they all hatched, wouldn’t the world be overrun by tortoises?

“Maybe,” Gordon says, “but the world would be a better place for it.”