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Mr Turtleneck’s Log

*Log from Monday Moody’s turtle in The Chrono Unit* 

Log 11690

The most alarming thing happened today while I was in my glass case. Monday had just come home with a girl. The girl looked hungry and scared. It wasn’t like Monday to have visitors, especially children, so something was going on. It was hard to eavesdrop from where they were. However, due to my position, I caught a glimpse of two different men who popped up in the living room.

One placed a bomb on the coffee table, the other took it away again. The whole thing was quite odd and though Monday is capable of looking after herself, I’ll have to keep an extra eye on things.

On the upside, we are going to visit her parents tomorrow. They have the best snacks. Plus, her mother doesn’t talk down to me.

 

Log 11689

Things have been quiet lately, hence my last update was 50447 minutes ago. I ventured into the garden while Monday was at work to check on the perimeter, as I regularly do. This time I had a feeling, which turned out to be right. One of the neighbours’ foxes breached the garden once again. I believe her name is Autumn, and she is quite the pesky creature. She keeps digging a hole under the laurel bush and then defiles the garden with urine. It is utterly rude.

She was in the back of the garden, sniffing the garden gnome that is holding an umbrella, when I approached her. She visibly stiffened and turned around. Not only was she trespassing, but she had the audacity to stare me down. I retreated into my shell, and when I came back out, I was behind her. Without hesitation, I bit her tail.

She shot off in the direction of the laurel bush and disappeared. I suspect I’ll not see her anytime soon. Just in case, though, I will place some barbed wire over the hole she dug on our side. That should teach her.

 

Log 11688

Overheard Monday contemplating checking out ads for dates. It is a small section in the newspaper that I do not care for. Who knows what kind of dangerous people it could attract? It is my mission to look out for her. Which is why I did the only logical thing I could come up with.

I ate the newspaper.

Monday took me to that awful place that she calls the vet, which is always full of barking dogs and other creatures I do not fancy. The vet gave me these awful drops; they tasted like beans. They also did something to my bathroom routine. I prefer not to go into further detail about this. It seems I was successful. Monday has not mentioned the ads since.

 

Log 11687

Saoirse is a good partner, I can tell Monday is happy with her. And so I will tolerate her presence. However, she showed up today with her offspring, all four of them, and husband. The children wanted to play hide-and-seek with me, which I am exceptionally good at, naturally. They got bored quickly and left me alone. Which made it easy for me to bite the husband’s shoelaces, since he started boring Monday with talk of the dangers of air conditioning.

Monday picked me up, which was nice, but then she handed me off to one of the offspring. The betrayal. She saw me narrow my eyes at her and afterwards she made it up to me by getting me shredded carrots and squash.

 

Log 11686

A salesman came to the door and pestered Monday with a new automatic hoover. It had all these functions that were just preposterous. Who cares if a hoover can play music? It just needs to hoover. Monday was trying to get rid of him, but this man was cunning and devious. I did not care for him.

I retreated into my shell and when I popped out, I was by his car. He had parked it further up the street, and so I disengaged the handbrake. Then I returned to Monday’s side and waited for it to roll by.

Monday let out a shriek and when the man realised it was his vehicle, he ran after it. It was uproarious. The rest of the evening Monday put me on her lap, and we watched TV.

 

Log 11685

The postman delivered the wrong package, and I was forced to track him down. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to find the correct item and then put it front of the door. Monday decided to keep the item she hadn’t purchased, which I am grateful for, since it is a foot massager. She used it on my shell, and it was agreeable.

 

Log 11684

Monday was watching a reality TV programme that was just ridiculous. I couldn’t take it much longer and had to devise a plan. First, I judged her. Loudly. Well, not loudly. I was staring at her, but it was very obvious, and she squirmed. I saw her do it.

Still, she did not change the channel and more drastic measures had to be taken.

I made my way over to the sofa, slowly. Then I stopped and stared at her again. This time she leaned further back so that she couldn’t see me. As if that would stop me.

When she wasn’t looking, I retreated into my shell and when I popped back out, I was on the sofa next to her. She didn’t even realise until I changed the channel with the clunky remote. Mission accomplished.

Until she put me back in my glass case and resumed the boring TV programme.

 

Log 11683

Today, while Monday was at work, a mouse ventured into the residence. The creature was quite fast and refused to sit still for long. This made capturing it quite tricky.

Yet, I could not allow this foul beast to be present when Monday returned.

I popped up near it several times, but each time it dashed off with astonishing speed. It took me 1562 seconds to corner it in the kitchen. After a battle that I won easily, I popped him outside near an owl’s nest.

Let that be a warning to the blasted animal, as well as the rest of its family and friends.

 

Log 11682

I was so engrossed in the TV programme on wildlife that I didn’t notice Monday was home until the door slammed. The whole thing was quite distressing as I had to hurry to switch off the TV and then retreat to my glass case. The latter wasn’t too difficult, but it was clear that she had heard the TV, even if for a split-second. It took her a while before she was calm enough to enjoy the rest of her day.

Funny enough she actually made a joke and asked me if I had been listening to music.

Close, but I couldn’t tell her that.

 

 

 

Morgan W. Silver

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