Tales of Terry 1 (part 1)

"Once upon a time. Please! Once upon a time!"
Terry stretched in the warm afternoon sun and reluctantly opened one eye. There, in a semi-circle around him were an assortment of young animals, with one thing in common, a need to be entertained and he had been chosen for this daily ritual. Even a tiny Human had crawled over to the group, but he wouldn't stay long. They were too fidgety, these Humans. Staggering around on two legs, yet always wanting to go places, see things. Explore.
And then he chuckled to himself as his other eye slowly opened.
There was a time when he had been just as anxious to be off to new places.
A long time ago that was, of course. A long, long time ago.
" Once upon a time, please" they pestered, pleading for a story.
Yes, he had wanted to travel, once upon a time.
A long time ago.
He stretched out, yawning, slowly standing as high as his short legs would allow.
The young ones were quiet now, watching, knowing they had his attention but not sure if there would be a story or a grumbly dismissal. He blinked sternly and they held a collective breath. Of course they could always coax someone else to entertain them, but that would come a poor second best to a story from Terry.
    He was the oldest animal anyone knew. And that included the Humans! So old, he knew all sorts of exciting things. Like the Field of Food and Other Places and even how to move without using your legs! (which must be very important when you can not walk very fast.)
   Knowing that he now had their full attention, Terry settled back down on to his shell and cleared his throat. The youngsters crept forward a little and snuggled in to the sweet smelling grass.
Story Time was about to begin.

"Once upon a time there came a day that was very important. It was Moving Day, the first day of my Great Travels."
Terry half closed his eyes as he looked back over all those years and saw again that warm, fateful day.
"The day I decided to leave started like any other day. The yard and garden become clear and I can see again the details of My Place. The garden, the yard, the red doors in the edges and the top flat bit where the cats strolled, catching the early morning sun."
He sighed and closed his eyes as he remembered back to a time before his listeners could remember. He could hear them wriggle in to the grass as they got comfortable, waiting impatiently for the story he was remembering.

                 He could see himself walking briskly round the yard once, twice, three times and then, having spotted where the dandelion leaves were greenest, went to eat breakfast. Then a short walk to the stone steps that led up to the house and he stopped, waiting.
Not in front of the step, as that could be dangerous for the Little Lady. Her eyes were not good and he didn't want to be stood on. So he waited patiently as the sun stretched across the yard.
                 He awoke with a start. The Little Lady was unbolting the back door, which was a long and noisy job. Then with a grunt and a creak, it opened and he heard the welcoming "Hello Terry. Where are you then? Look what I've got for you." She came slowly down the high steps, holding tightly to the hand rail and Terry moved obligingly in to her line of vision. She sat down on the last step, straightening her dressing gown. Then she reached out her hand, invitingly. In her crooked fingers she held a square of white stuff, covered with red stuff. Terry marched quickly forward.
Lovely sticky sweet red stuff! Yummy! This was his favourite. A special snack for special days. Jam Butty! His mouth opened wide as he stretched his scaly neck out, to snatch his second breakfast.
"Well, that didn't last long, did it? You must have been hungry. Now come here and let me wipe your mouth."
It took some time but Terry allowed her to clean his face without nipping her fingers, accepting that the worse thing about Jam Butty was the sticky mess Humans felt they had to wipe away.
Because the best thing about Jam Butty was that tortoises did not have to waste time chewing them, they just slid deliciously down through the mouth, past the taste buds and in to the stomach without stopping. Humans couldn't eat that quickly (although some certainly tried).
"I'll see if I can find you some nice lettuce later," and she struggled back inside the house. He watched and wanted to say goodbye, that he would not be here later, but the only sound he could make was a hissing, gasping noise and she did not hear.
             He turned and made his way to the Big Red Gate. For some time he had been hitting the Gate with his shell and slowly, oh so slowly, a hole had appeared. Bit by bit, the wood had splintered and snapped and broken away and now he was sure if he pushed just a little bit harder, he would be able to force his shell through the gap and escape.
            Bang. Bang. Slip. Nearly there. He could see the black wall beyond the Red Gate and was determined. A step back and a big rush forward.
Crash!
           and he slid through the gate.