Turtle Head Poking Out
Seymore is the ideal travel companion. Ever the philosopher, he spends several hours a day in quiet contemplation, reflecting on the changing social climate of a once progressive Los Angeles. He's not one for conversation and generally keeps his thoughts to himself, believing that actions speak louder than words. Every once in a while, his actions land him in some tricky situations but I'm usually there to help him get back on his feet. Calculated risks aside, he is a pleasure to be around. Some might argue that having a travel companion who relieves themselves whenever and wherever they choose would be a problem, but I am not one to judge. No, Seymore does not suffer from Irritable Bowel Syndrome—he's a turtle!
For about a year now, Seymore has accompanied me on infrequent trips between Los Angeles and Northern California. He doesn’t require a pet deposit, car seat, or the need to pull over to stretch his legs. Seymore can comfortably stretch his legs and take in some sun on the dashboard of just about any American automobile. His car of choice? The Jeep Wrangler. There’s a pocket on the dash for either a wallet or cell phone that never loses its contents, no matter how many speed bumps you cross or the speed at which you cross them. It's the ultimate turtle seat and I know he appreciates it!
For five hours of travel time, he stares out the window, observing an unknown world just beyond the safety glass. A world of whizzing objects, vast landscapes, and creatures lacking shells— A world where the only face staring back at him in the reflection of a windshield is his own.
When we reach our destination, he continues his routine. During the day, he relaxes at a window sill, peering out into the wilderness while enjoying the sound of birds and running streams. When he gets hungry, food can usually be found nearby. At night, he watches me find food —rarely nearby though, in Northern California.
The journey back home is nowhere near as interesting for him as the departing trip. I can tell because Seymore usually spends his time napping under a towel, most likely dreaming about how predictable his life will be upon returning to Los Angeles. Each time we return, he spends at least a week thinking about the trip he just completed. I know because his pupils are dilated and he looks out the window, arms outstretched, in preparation for the next turn into a gas station off the Interstate 5. Turtles are the ultimate travel companions, but don’t take my word for it—ask Ron Jeremy!
