Harold the Tortoise Pulls Off Great Escape #2—This Time the Law Catches Up

Harold’s Great Escape

Photo by Edwin Lopez on Pexels.com

Harold was no ordinary backyard pet. Being a tortoise, his adventures rarely involved chasing tennis balls or tugging on ropes. Instead, Harold was a master of patience, persistence, and plotting. He had already made a name for himself with one backyard escape. Still, this time, his curiosity carried him farther than anyone expected.

It began with the fence. Harold had spent weeks studying it, eyeing the weak spots with quiet determination. One morning, the house was still waking up. He pressed against a loose slat. It was just enough for daylight to seep through. Inch by inch, Harold squeezed his shell until he was finally free. He paused. He sniffed the air (at least, as much as tortoises sniff). He set off at his own steady pace toward the unknown.

The journey was slow but deliberate. He trundled across lawns. He navigated flowerbeds. He even startled a neighbor’s cat. Upon seeing Harold’s ancient face, the cat decided this was a creature best left unchallenged. Hours passed. Harold’s determined little legs carried him farther. The sound of traffic began to hum in the distance.

By midafternoon, Harold had reached a busy city intersection. Cars rumbled by, drivers honked, and the crosswalk lights blinked red and green. Unfazed, Harold simply marched out onto the asphalt, oblivious to the commotion he was causing.

It was then that Officer Ramirez, patrolling the area, spotted something unusual in the middle of the road. At first glance, it looked like a rock—or maybe even debris. But as he got closer, he noticed the little legs moving steadily ahead.

“Well, you don’t see that every day,” Ramirez muttered, pulling his cruiser to the curb.

Stepping into the street, he held up his hand to stop traffic, much to the confusion of the waiting drivers. Then, carefully, he scooped Harold up. “You’re one brave little guy,” he said, examining the tortoise’s shell. That’s when he saw it: a neatly written phone number in permanent marker, curved along Harold’s back.

A quick call later, Harold’s worried family answered. Within the hour, Harold was back in his yard, much to their relief. The fence slat was nailed firmly back in place. Harold received a fresh helping of lettuce as a homecoming feast.

Of course, Harold munched away happily, but his eyes still lingered on the fence. After all, a tortoise’s heart—slow and steady though it is—was always drawn to adventure. For Harold’s caretakers, it would mean something different. The next day, the front page of the local newspaper ran with headlines and the story about Harold’s Great Escape!

By Staff Reporter Scoop Gatter

It isn’t every day that traffic stops because of a tortoise. Yet, that’s exactly what happened yesterday afternoon at the corner of Maple Avenue and 3rd Street.

Officer Luis Ramirez of the city police department was on routine patrol. He spotted what he thought was a rock in the middle of the intersection. A closer look revealed something far more unusual. A slow-moving tortoise named Harold was making his way across the street. It seemed to him as if it were just another stretch of backyard lawn.

“I had to do a double take,” Ramirez said with a laugh. “You expect to see dogs or cats wandering off now and then, but not a tortoise. Cars were stopping, people were staring—it was a sight.”

Officer Ramirez quickly stopped traffic and carried Harold to safety. A phone number was written in marker on Harold’s shell. This was a precaution his owner had taken after the tortoise’s first great escape. Thanks to that bit of foresight, Ramirez called the family directly.

Within the hour, Harold was back home, munching lettuce in his yard as though nothing had happened. His owner is relieved and amused. She says the family plans to reinforce their backyard fence. She also admits Harold has a knack for adventure.

“He’s slow, but he’s sneaky,” the owner joked. “You turn your back for an afternoon, and suddenly he’s halfway to downtown.”

As for Harold, he remains unfazed by all the attention. With his second escape under his belt, neighbors are already calling him “the Houdini of Maple Avenue.”

The Great Tortoise Escape: A Neighborhood Mystery

2–3 minutes

The Great Tortoise Caper

Photo by Edwin Lopez on Pexels.com

Harold was not your average backyard pet. For one thing, he was a tortoise—stoic, slow-moving, and entirely uninterested in chew toys or squeaky balls. He had a knack for testing boundaries. He focused specifically on the wooden fence that separated his little patch of green from the rest of the world.

It was a warm Thursday morning when Harold spotted his chance. The gate, left just barely ajar, beckoned. And so, with all the urgency of a creature who could nap through an earthquake, he set off.

The first few feet were thrilling—new smells, unfamiliar blades of grass. Soon he found himself among tall weeds. They brushed the top of his shell. The sunlight dappled through in golden patches. Harold was, for the first time in years, truly free.

Back at the house, his caretaker, Miriam, noticed the absence almost instantly. Panic bloomed. Harold wasn’t fast, but he was determined, and that made him unpredictable. She called the local HOA, who wasted no time sending out a neighborhood alert. Within the hour, a small army of retirees—sun hats on, binoculars in hand—fanned out through the cul-de-sacs and common areas. They called his name as if he actually come when called.

“Check under the hedges!”

shouted Frank from three doors down.


“Don’t forget the drainage ditch!”

added Ethel, peering into a shrub like it might hold the crown jewels.

But Harold was nowhere near the hedges. He was ambling through a corridor of tall grass, blissfully unaware of the search party. The grass parted to reveal shimmering water ahead—one of the golf course ponds, its surface gleaming like a mirror. Harold paused at the edge, the water rippling as a golf ball plunked in somewhere across the way.

It was here, in this quiet moment, that his adventure almost took a turn. The pond’s soft edge gave way under his front foot. Harold slid ahead, catching himself just in time. He gave the pond a slow, thoughtful look, decided it was not his scene, and turned back toward the grass.

Hours later, Miriam spotted him in the shade of a ficus tree near the clubhouse. He was calm, content, and entirely unbothered by the chaos he’d caused. The search party gathered, relieved, and one by one, they drifted back to their homes.

Harold was returned to his yard, the gate firmly latched this time. If you looked closely the next morning, you might have seen him sitting by that same gate. He was staring out at the world beyond. He was already plotting his next great escape.

By Benjamin GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | 2025