Matilda on Manzanita St.

Or is it Mr. T? It depends on who you ask.

Making a Neighborhood was nearly on a break from the newsletter this December, but something in yours truly just wouldn’t let the year go by without at least one more story for our readers, this time about my magical four-legged friend on Manzanita St.

I first encountered the noble specimen last summer after grabbing my usual fish taco combo at nearby Tacos Delta. On spotting the little Chelonian (pronounced ki-ˈlō-nē-ən) past a gated alleyway, I couldn’t help but be awed that something so mighty could be found casually roaming through this part of our neighborhood; but I also knew it couldn’t have just been an accident, since a “Tortoise Crossing” sign made it clear the alley was definitely designated for its dwelling. And when the critter slowly but surely approached me as I stood by and called out towards it, I got the feeling it’d had generally positive experiences with humans like myself. I had never been so close to a tortoise of its size before, but took to it right away, going as far as to pet its awesome shell before our chance encounter that day concluded.

But I had to learn more about just how the tortoise got there, and why, so I made it a point to stop by the alleyway again soon in hopes of speaking with whoever might be in charge of caring for such a mystical and personable green feller; the next time I stopped by–yes, once again coming back from Tacos Delta for the fish taco combo–after spotting a Señora coming in and out the home along the alleyway, my curiosity got the best of me. It was then that I came to learn about the story of “Matilda,” the one and only Sulcata tortoise along the path where East Hollywood meets Silverlake.

Jimena Alamillo herself first noticed “Matilda” in 2019 when she was working at the Star Eco Station, a rescue and rehabilitation center in Culver City where many different rescued animals made and continue to make their home to this day; while two other Sulcata tortoises also resided at the Eco Station, what struck Jimena about Mr. T, as he was officially known then, was his significantly smaller size.

“His growth was stunted,” she told me while beside our feet this friendliest of reptiles crunched down on some blueberries placed out for him. More than anything, this was due to a simple lack of proper care from Matilda’s original owner.

Since Jimena’s responsibilities at the Eco Center saw her feed all of the wildlife under the Center’s care, she got to know just what Mr. T needed for nourishment, a diet consisting most of all of various fruits and veggies. Then, after about a year and a half spent caring for him and his fellow rescue animals, Jimena actually decided to leave Culver City’s Eco Station for a job closer to home. But just before she moved on, she decided there was one part of the habitat that she couldn’t go without. It was the tiny Sulcata tortoise she’d come to befriend by then.

Deciding to bring him home wasn’t an easy decision. For one, he could live up to 100 years! A span of time she could obviously do only so much planning for. For another, Jimena had to consider whether the size of the alleyway would work or not, not to mention the constant fruits and veggies she’d have to haul in, and of course, whether she and her family could balance the act of making a home with such an extraordinary pet.

Yet while her parents were a bit surprised by her decision to make Mr. T one of the Alamillos, they were still receptive too; they’d always loved animals as well, to the point that prior to Mr. T, their alleyway had been known for entire packs of rabbits running through it. Plus, they knew Jimena didn’t have experience with animals only while at the Eco Station, but also through her Bachelor’s Degree in Zoology from Cal Poly Pomona. It was settled then. The family was in, and a short while later, Mr. T became “Matilda” when Jimena’s mom christened him that given some difficulty she had referring to him as “Señor T.”

Still, there were other accommodations to make. At first, Matilda’s diminutive stature made it no big deal for him to live right inside of the family home, leading him to more or less crash in the living room. While sources note that adult Sulcatas generally average 18 inches in shell length and 70 to 100 pounds in weight, Matilda, who was most likely around 25 years old (or at an adult age) when Jimena first met him, was nowhere near this size or weight then. But because she and her parents took good care of him, Matilda got bigger seemingly by the day. This then led to needing more room, underscored by more than one instance of him relieving himself when and where he shouldn’t have. To paraphrase the words of some other Sulcata owners, “they can eat all day,” which Jimena and her family definitely saw the consequences of.

Fortune favored Jimena when it came to more room, since one of her brothers, another John Marshall High School alumni like her and the rest of her siblings, is actually an engineer. With her brother’s expertise, the family built a new home for Matilda just outside of theirs, designed to accommodate for his burgeoning build, and replete with ceramic heat lamps on set timers, as well as special roofing inside to prevent him from being overwhelmed on rainy days. Alamillo and her mom also dug a tunnel for Mr. T to get away from surface-level matters when it’s either too hot or too cold out. It’s served him well, since he’s a digger by nature with ancestry going all the way back to the edges of the Saharan desert in Africa.

Jimena’s own family traces their roots to the state of Zacatecas, Mexico, for that matter, but has largely been in the U.S. since the late 1980s. In 2021, however, during the height of the pandemic, Jimena’s grandfather on her dad’s side passed away. Then, earlier this summer, Hermenegildo, her dad, also passed away; Jimena’s only remaining grandparent, Pedro Betancourt–from mom’s side–now lives with her and her mom. But even at 92, not so unlike Matilda, Mr. Betancourt is also a resilient type who never shies away from some time outside with his “guns out,” including to clean up the alleyway for the best kept secret of Manzanita St.

Since 2021, Jimena’s taken Matilda to the vet at least once a year, and everything has looked right on track. Today his shell is just about 18 inches long, finally, and he weighs in at 42 pounds. While the latter isn’t quite the 75 - 100 pound average for other Sulcatas his age (yet), considering how much of a tiny seedling he was only five years ago, it affirms the hard work Jimena and her mom in particular have done to help Mr. T turn over a new leaf.

2021 is also when Jimena purchased the totally feng shui “Tortoise Crossing” sign after someone on Nextdoor published a post concerned that this incredible tortoise might have somehow been abandoned or lost. Looking back on that time, Jimena smiles. She totally gets that since he’s so visible to all kinds of passersby, it comes with all sorts of attention. But the vast majority of it has been overwhelmingly positive, most of all because it’s introduced Matilda and the Alamillos to a world of local fans and supporters, including yours truly.

On special occasions, the Alamillos hold cook-outs at their one story bungalow home besides the alleyway, bringing together both mom and dad’s extended families. It’s then that a bevvy of nieces and nephews can be heard laughing with joy at handing Matilda, or Mr. T, his treasured fruits and veggies.

But even if it’s just a “typical day,” the next time you’re near Manzanita St., take a peek for yourself and see if you can catch him and maybe even Mr. Betancourt too; if you’ve got some fresh fruit to spare, trust that blueberries, watermelon, kale, and even apples tend to go a long way in grabbing his attention.

But in any case, “he’s really not a picky eater,” Jimena tells me.

And I get the sense he’s picked up on that after all the special company he’s enjoyed and become a part of.

J.T.