Playing For Time

"We are keeping them separated and every two weeks we try to bring them together again, but Bibi reacts immediately by hissing at him.  He then responds aggressively to her, so we have to separate them again.  The only way we can get them apart is by using tomatoes, which are, fortunately, irresistible to them.  We could not carry them away from each other because they are too heavy."

Ah, tomatoes, those famous "love apples".  This, then, must be the kindly intervention of marriage counsellors anxious to restore normal family life in yet another instance where two long-time lovers joined in holy matrimony have suddenly turned against one another.  She, with her sharp, wounding tongue, and he with his threats to let loose his anger in physical violence.

It is so dreadfully sad when those who have loved one another so passionately, and who have shared with one another the joys and sadness that a life together brings, decide that they can no longer abide each other's close and intimate company.  It's hard on them, hard on the offspring.  And then think of the property they've acquired over the years, and have shared with much affection and dedication to the continuance of their wedlocked state.

Such contracts are not to be taken lightly; they represent a covenant both with each other, to have and to hold in sickness and in health, and with nature itself.  For it is nature that has designed the creatures, both male and female, and the link between them for the preservation of the species.  It is nature, in her perfection as a brilliant designer of life and habitude that has gifted her creatures with emotions to care for one another.

They've lived together for over a century!  No, they're not in their end-of-life dotage, not quite yet.  For they may still, though they're each 115 years of age, live in fairly good health until they reach the venerable, creaking age of 175.  Giant Galapagos Tortoises do, after all.  "They are both 115 years old.  They have been together since they were young, eventually becoming a pair.  But, for no reason that anyone can discover, they just can't stand each other any more."

Tortoises?  Sharing the distinction of sudden aversion with another's presence, with humans, who also unaccountably, turn against one another, despite the investment of years together?  Bibi, it appears, took exception to Poldi's attentions on one occasion that started it all, this dreadful lack of goodwill that has erupted between them.  In her state of agitation at his ministrations toward her, she bit his shell.

And he has never forgiven her.  Staff at the Reptile Zoo in Klagenfurt, Austria, which has housed the pair for 36 years, realize that Bibi just seems to want to be alone.  "We have staff trying to engage the two in interacting, and we hope that they might find their harmony again.  We were told that it is very rare that, after so many years, animals who are a pair fell apart, but that is where we are.  We are still hopeful."

Each weighs over 100 kilograms.  Whenever they are introduced to each other again in the vain hope that they will forgive one another and wish to embrace in loving harmony again, Bibi hisses at Poldi.  For his part, he lunges violently at her. 

Haven't we seen this scenario somewhere before?