Pets I've had Part I (Terry)

Since moving out of my parents house I've entertained the idea of keeping strange pets. This is not just because I'm interested in exotic animals, in fact it has more to do with my situation. I live in an apartment with hardwood floors and somewhat uptight ownership, so anything that would endanger hardwood (particularly dogs, cats and fishes) are not allowed in my abode. It's just how the ownership rolls.

When I still lived with my parents I got along quite well with their dogs and cats. We even had fish for a long time. This instilled in me a certain "pet-thing" that I still haven't been able to shake, where I simply enjoy keeping pets. Being that I'm not able to keep the most popular and fun American pets, I had to get creative. At first I gave serious consideration to the idea of keeping a pet rodent, perhaps a rat, gerbil, etc.
This is an idea I shot down myself, due to my disastrous experience keeping pet mice in High School. (I don't particularly like having to use triple-antibiotic ointment on a wound)

So, being that I'm not a bird guy, I decided to head the route of cold-blooded animals, particularly reptiles. I had a huge thing for turtles, and did hours and hours worth of research into what species of turtle made good pets, what sort of housing needs they had, and what sort of ethical considerations went into the whole deal. From my research I came to the conclusion that the perfect pet for me was an Eastern Box turtle. Box Turtles live in forests and occasionally bogs in the Southeastern United States, and are for the most part terrestrial.

By terrestrial I mean that they live on land. Box turtles spend much of their time tooling around the woods or bog, searching for food be it grubs, plant matter, fish, bugs, etc. They are omnivorous, and require a balanced, almost human-like diet. Also, as terrestrial scavengers, they have far better than average eye-sight and visual memory. This allows Box turtles to eventually learn to recognize their master on sight, and to come to them exclusively when hungry. I was enthralled by the creatures and eventually broke down and bought one from a supposedly reputable dealer in Florida who assured me that their shipping system was top-notch and safe.

Suffice to say that the shipping was not safe. My turtle, who I had named Tarquin, was dead on arrival at my house. But strangely enough, there was another living thing inside the parcel. Inside the parcel was also a tiny, brilliantly green turtle with webbed toes and a red stripe on the face near the eyes. This was a surprise, and I didn't have proper facilities to care for the creature, so I did my best at first, which was not ideal care for the animal. Within a short time, I managed to get a small semi-aquatic tank set up for the creature, with a decent filtration system and live plants. I named the turtle Terry, due to it's gender neutrality.

When UPS attempted to deliver a mysterious package at my door shortly after, I thought they had sent me a replacement to Tarquin, and without thinking, I ruined a date that I was on to go to the UPS center in North-East to try and pick up the poor animal. When it turned out to be a T-Shirt, I was devastated, and wished that UPS would label *who* attempted deliveries were for, as it would make for an easier life.

For a time, Terry was happy apparrently. He or She would chase after pellets of turtle food (and the occasional live food) and impress guests to my room, as well as occasionally going on walks outside of his cage on carpet or other warm surfaces like beds or human hands and arms. About a month into Terry's time, I got a snail to live wth him, a snail I think that was named Selma, though I'm not sure. Selma kept the cage clean, and was interesting to watch move about the tank. The occasional interactions that the two animals had were generally pretty funny, showing fear and ignorance. (Imagine a tiny turtle crashing into a snail and retreating across to the other side of the tank in terror. )

Terry survived even the cold, which I fought with a number of different heating systems. It survived until a trip to Duluth for the Christmas holiday. I visited my parents, and on the last day of the trip, when I was preparing Terry for the ride home, it managed to wriggle loose from my hands, falling a good 6 feet to the floor. It was hard to tell what condition Terry was in, outside of being alive and slightly slow or off, and avoiding the use of one arm. So, I drove back to Duluth with Terry secure in a tupperware container.

We arrived back in Minneapolis, and I set up Terry's cage again, with nice warm water from the tub, with toys how I imagined Terry liked them. I then set Terry back in the cage. Terry jumped off it's basking rock into the water, and I thought all was well, and left the room briefly. When I came back, Terry was on the bottom of the tank, mouth open in a terrifying display, with bubbles quickly jetting out.

Needless to say, this worried me, as it was behaviour I had never seen before. I ran over to the tank and reached in, lifting the turtle out of the water, and attempting to drain the water that had filled it's lungs. It had a frantic look in its eyes, and rather quickly went limp. I tried moving it's throat to get at any obstruction, but had no luck. There was nothing that I could do to save it, so I sat down and truly cried, like I hadn't done for months. I broke down in uncontrollable tears and spasms, ended up calling people, and then got to the grisly business of getting rid of the corpse.

I took Terry's body, wrapped it in a shroud of plastic, and due to the abnormally warm and wet december, was able to go out into the back yard, by the garage, and buried it using a spork to dig through the pebbly ground. Fitting, in that one of Terry's strongest interests was digging holes in various surfaces. When held in hands, Terry would even try to dig through hands, usually pushing feebly with it's hands at the massive human fingers. I would allow him the triumph of getting through by loosening my grip.