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General

I first met you in a small fish tank in north Houston. Small and green, red stripes covering skin that took the form of your "ears". You were shy then, hesitant, as my brother took you out of the small container and placed you on the baby seat on the shopping cart. Very unsanitary, but we were children; 14, 13 and 12 at the time, and we didn't pay attention to germs or colds, afraid it would stop us from our fun, and a lot of fun we had. Over the years I watched you grow, your green color becoming darker and less vibrant, and your circular shell growing wider. Your nails grew longer, which scared me, because I didn't know what they meant. Throughout my poor living spaces for you, up until now, you still managed to survive, throughout my ignorance and full on zeal that "love was all you needed to take care of a pet". (Can you believe that was an actual thought!?) I taught you to wink, well, I think that's what you do when you see me. I watched my brothers trick you into biting them because you thought you were biting food, I watched you travel through the grass, ending up unable to find for several days, then popping back up in front of the house, as if nothing happened. I remember when you escaped and walked through the house, my aunt screaming because she had no idea why you were out of the room and how you got out. (For some reason, you wanted to travel through the living room, out of my room. What a curious fella you are.) I recall losing you in the house for two days, then finding you upside down under my brother's bed. You have surely went on some adventures in your ten years of life.


You have survived every stray dog that we managed to fish out of the streets (even the one who had a major flea infestation and ended up getting our whole house infested with them) every pet fish that I tried to not kill (the last one died because of temperature shock) you've even eaten some of the frogs I've collected that pile up after the rain and scatter across the roads. I've seen your first fish, although you were hesitant at first and scared, you eventually warmed up to it. Your tail has grown longer, your nails pointier, and through research, I finally found out what kind of species you are—red-eared slider, which explained the red skin on the sides of your head— and I even learned your true gender—not a girl like I was told—when you turned five, and your nails kept growing and your size remained small (boy turtles are smaller than girl turtles.) I love to see your green eyes staring at me when I turn around to look at you, like you're observing my every move, and you seem very interested in me typing on my computer, reading, or looking through my phone. You're quite comfortable enough with me that you let me pick you up and your head doesn't snatch back into your shell; your nails still scratch me but I guess that comes with the territory of holding a turtle. Your reserveness is similar to mine, as you like to carefully sniff (observe) things before you eat or get closer to them. Through you, in a strange sense, I have learned about my personality and how it's so close to yours; calm, cool, quiet and reserved.


You've captured the hearts of those younger than you as well, like a young girl, my cousin, who got a pet turtle for her 7th birthday just because she saw me with one. It's interesting how you, so quiet yet entertaining, can imprint in the lives of people who care for you daily, and come to check up on you. I appreciate your obsession with fingers and carrots, and your love for hiding under dark areas for long periods of time. You are an important piece of my childhood, and a cute little reminder that God cares about every little thing we like or dislike. I had no idea you would live to be ten years old, so old and so young at the same time. You have seen me shed so many tears, seen friendships break up and relationships start, you were there in a little self-made clay bowl, being carried by me to my uncle's house, as I was kicked out of my Mom's house because I didn't want to live there anymore. You, although, involuntarily, were there through it all, and for some reason, I feel like you still want to stay.


Let's not forget your other turtle friends; a newer girl (who, for some reason you're terrified of) and an older one whom you would let climb all over you. Did you like her? It's funny, because at first her owner thought she was a boy and you were the girl. Oh how the tables have turned; turtle gender is so weird.


Is it appropriate to say thank you to a turtle? I am not sure, but I will say it now. I sound silly, but you have been such a blessing in my life and I appreciate seeing your little face everyday. You are such a delight; who knew what God had in mind when he created animals like you. You are patient, so stubborn, and for some reason you like to be picked up, despite the common trait in every turtle that they don't like to be carried or handled. You are an exception; you love soaring in my hand, eyes wide open and looking around at everything as they all pass by. I realize I am your pet mom, someone responsible for everything you eat, cleaning your surroundings, making sure you have fun playing, etc. But I’ve never had so much fun having you as a pet. From seeing you eat a dead spider from muddy water to watching a car pass down the road and you scurrying across the driveway like a literal mad “turtle” (that’s a spin on mad man, get it? Probably not, because you’re a turtle…ha ha.) 


I think people shouldn’t underestimate the joy that pets could bring. I never knew you would be apart of so many important moments in my life, and I thank you again for choosing to stay. I hope I can be with you for more years, since you are surely a little delight to me.

May 15, 2020 18:53

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