Meet Rhoda, Tortoise Escape Artist Of South Seattle

SEATTLE, WA - If Nanci Almquist ever knocks on your door and asks to look in your backyard, don't think it's strange. Chances are she's hunting for her 170-pound African spurred tortoise, Rhoda, who seems to have developed a knack for escaping Almquist's well-fenced yard in the Lakeridge neighborhood between Seattle and Renton.

The most recent escape happened July 1. Rhoda, Almquist suspects, was able to use his heft to bust through a fence and - slowly but surely - escape out onto the streets. Rhoda got out on a Saturday while Almquist's son was out volunteering at an animal refuge and Almquist was taking a nap. That gave Rhoda (age 60) a long head start.

Almquist went door-to-door in the neighborhood asking to look in yards and under bushes for Rhoda. Some neighbors were wary, others knew Rhoda likes hiding under bushes.

"Nobody told me no!" Almquist said laughing.

Rhoda was picked up by two men driving through the neighborhood. They took him to their home in Tukwila, but called the state Department of Fish and Wildlife to report the find. Through her connections with a local herpetology group, Almquist was able to get Rhoda back home just two days after the escape.

It turns out, African spurred tortoises, in particular, are exceptionally personable (popular "because of its outgoing and animated personality," according to Reptile Magazine). Rhoda climbs stairs, talks with other turtles (it sounds like whispering), snuggles with Almquist's house cat, and likes to mash cardboard boxes. He's a messy eater, but loves a good yam, and someone is usually nearby to wipe his mouth. He has his own pool, and likes to knock over flower pots. Almquist's son has a number of other small water turtles. One, a Russian tortoise, is multitudes smaller than Rhoda, but can herd his big brother like a sheep dog.

African spurred tortoises are native to the Sahara desert and, in the wild, wander over large distances. That might be one reason for Rhoda's wanderings.

On a recent day at Almquist's house, Rhoda tooled around his large Lake Washington-view yard, climbing stairs and over obstacles, all with a determined look in his eye.

"He'll watch me put up barriers to see how it all fits together," Almquist says.

Rhoda came to Almquist about 12 years ago, a gift from a former boyfriend. His age of 60 is just an estimate, but if correct, that means he has about 60 more years to go. In tortoise years, he's just a teenager.

Rhoda has been let out mistakenly a number of times, but some escapes are more memorable. Once, he crawled down Almquist's neighbor's steep driveway and into the house. At the time, only the grandmother was home with her two young granddaughters. Rhoda casually made his way into the bathroom, but the grandmother wasn't taking any chances - she hid behind a couch with her granddaughters. Almquist had a difficult time getting the giant tortoise back up the driveway.

And although Almquist says, jokingly, that Rhoda is a handful, it's clear he's worth it. His movements are fascinating, and even though he doesn't talk, one can't help but feel like he's trying to communicate. It feels as if he might turn and look at you and say, "Hello."

At one point, Almquist brought out a tray of yams sprinkled in calcium powder (for his shell). She explained that he prefers to be fed by hand. And sure enough, when she placed the yam down on the tray, Rhoda turned his head up toward the sky as if to indicate his displeasure.

To guard against future escapes, Almquist has affixed a dog tag to Rhoda with her phone number. That way anyone who finds him can get him back home quickly. Almquist has been reinforcing her yard recently too, but who know what tricks Rhoda has up his shell.

"It's just his nature - he wants to keep going," Almquist said.

Images via Neal McNamara/Patch.com