No, No, No

Gene Simmons as a sociopathic genius doctor (not the medical type, the piled-higher-and-deeper type) seems like a movie that's based on me. But it's not. It's just another story about the hero, Tom Selleck, saving the world from killer robots. You know, the story of my life.

And since tortoises are basically just biological robots, it's only natural that Gene wrote the theme song of Frank's day two at the casa de Reagan.

We learned yesterday that I'm the Donald Trump of tortoise enclosures. Well, Mary is the the Ivanka Trump of tortoise burrows.

Great landscaping, a view of the habitat, nice picket fence... All of the things that make up the American Tortoise Dream. Frank's response? No, No, No.

Last night Frank dug a different burrow next to the dream burrow and slept there. It was like putting up a lean-to next to Bill Gates' house while watching a movie on an iPad and surfing the web on a Linux computer.

Today, just to be difficult, Frank spent the morning eating a bountiful harvest of clover and other things that I don't know the name of, then took a nap on top of his beautiful burrow.

Now, I may be the world's foremost desert tortoise expert, but Frank, to paraphrase the great and brilliant Axel Foley, I don't get you.

Let's get with the program, Frank!