Dinosaurs Love Cactus @ Steampunk Farms Rescue Barn

Transcript

The Cactus Incident of 2024

The prickly pear never saw them coming.

One moment it was standing proud in our tortoise enclosure — a seemingly indestructible desert warrior. The next moment, Ryuk and Clyde (yes, we named our tortoises after pop-culture characters) were staging what can only be described as a prehistoric demolition project.

These seventy-pound "dino-torts" approached that cactus with the methodical patience of creatures who've outlived actual dinosaurs. Ryuk took point, her ancient beak working like garden shears. Clyde provided backup, methodically clearing the fallen pieces with the dedication of a four-legged bulldozer.

We watched in fascination and mild horror as they devoured every last pad, spine and all. The sound of crunching filled the morning air — apparently, when you're built like a living tank, a few thorns are just seasoning.

By afternoon, where once stood a proud desert sentinel, only a small crater remained. Two very satisfied tortoises basked nearby, looking smugly innocent. If tortoises could burp, we're pretty sure they would have.

The lesson here? Never underestimate the appetite of ancient souls in modern shells. These guys have been perfecting their eating game for 200 million years — a single cactus was merely Tuesday's entertainment.

Now we're wondering if we should plant more cacti or just accept that our dino-torts have claimed this corner of the sanctuary as their personal salad bar. Given their track record, we're leaning toward surrender.

Sometimes the smallest victories at a sanctuary involve watching rescued animals do exactly what they're meant to do — even if that means turning your landscaping into lunch.