By Thunder!

There comes a time when the children leave home and the parents are left with the pets. That puppy they promised to take for walks and the rabbits they swore they would clean out each wee,k have survived longer than anticipated and are now inherited along with the kids' CD collection and the assortment of treasures that are too precious to throw away.

Sometimes it works the other way and it is the older generation that bequeaths a four legged friend to their descendents. Thus Thunder, a tortoise of uncertain age moved in last spring, when his elderly owner went into care and he found himself homeless.

When Thunder arrived he had just come out of hibernation and apeared to be a very sloth-like creature until the sun warmed his shell and he took on a new lease of life. We calculated that he was about sixty years old and roughly the size of a dinner plate. He came with the instructions that he liked Little Gem lettuce and he didn't like tomatoes.

We duly bought a tortoise book and took on board all the dos and donts. Knowing that he was vegetarian we tempted him with just about every plant and vegetable known to mankind but when it came down to it, Thunder was a bit of a faddy eater. It turns out that he likes broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage - but only cooked, plus lettuce and banana. Anything else he flattens like a centurian tank en route for the Front. Occasionally we catch him nibbling at some unidentified object in the grass. Nibble isn't quite the right word. Tortoises have some sort of beaky projection with thich they stab their prey and rip it from the ground. At the end of a meal he frequently looks like Worzel Gummidge with pieces of straw dangling from his mouth. Table manners are not his forte.

When we took him in we had no idea that he had a libido the size of a sky-scraper and a foot fetish to boot. Spot a shoe at a hundred paces and he goes into seduction mode which involves squinting at it, biting it, and if it hangs around long enough, indulging in a litle amour. In order to save our footwear from a fate worse than death, we gave him his own black lace-up. That shoe had a love life most of us would envy. Approach him with bare toes at your peril!

Thunder is a Mediterranean spur-thigh tortoise. He must have arrived in Britain in the 1960s when tortoises were shipped in by the crate load to be sold for a few pence. Thousands died on the journey and more perished from ignorance when they arrived. Happily, today they can only be sold with a certificate guaranteeing that they were bred in the United Kingdom and being expensive to buy, one hopes that they are treated with more respect.

At the end of the summer we duly followed all the instructions about hibernation, ensuring that he had remembered to go to the toilet before he went. Fasting followed by a long soak in a warm bath then he was finally packed away in a box. This is the second winter that we have been through this and tendrils of unease lurk, wondering if at the end of his mammoth doze he will wake up. In fact, it will soon be time to bring him out into the daylight and let him slowly emerge when he feels so inclined.

Just because you can't take a tortoise for walks or sit it on your knee does not mean that they are not rewarding pets. Tortoises are bright, alert, curious and have excellent sight and hearing. Don't be fooled by the story of the tortoise and the hare either, for they can move at the speed of - well, not exactly a hare, but with amazing rapidity.

We miss him while he is in bed. Hopefully he will soon be back among us and his companion shoe will be released from its winter-long celibacy.