When I was 4 or 5 years old, my dad’s sister lived with my family for a little while. Because I was only 4 or 5, I don’t really remember the details of how we ended up at a pet store together. I’m sure she must have asked permission to get me a pet, but I really couldn’t tell you. Maybe the new turtle was a surprise to my parents.
At the pet store, I do remember looking at the turtles, but it wasn’t the highlight of the trip in my mind. They had several Eastern Box Turtles together in a bin. I have no idea why I chose the one that I did. What I do remember distinctly about this pet store was that, in the middle of the floor, there was a square cage, full of water on the bottom with metal bars all the way around the cage. Inside was an alligator (or an alligator-type reptile; remember… I was 4 or 5… if it looked like an alligator, it was definitely an alligator). I remember desperately wanting to pet this creature (and probably to take that one home with me) and being disappointed that it was not going to happen. To this day, that’s the closest I’ve been to anything like an alligator. These days, I’m happy to keep it that way. Losing an arm to a gator or drowning in an alligator roll or having one snag my dog off a bank sounds absolutely horrid.
Anyway, back to the turtle… I picked one out, and home we went. When asked what the turtle’s name was, I decided her name would be “Meghan.” My mom suggested that we at least spell it without an “h,” so we wouldn’t have the exact same name. The most significant things about this turtle in my life were 1. my close encounter with an alligator when adding the turtle to the family and 2. that I named her (I honestly don’t even know if she was a girl; Megan might’ve been a “he.”) after myself. Once home, we set up in her a tank in the basement family room where she lived next to a guinea pig for some time. The cat(s) slept down there with them overnight as well. She died, probably far younger than she should have, for reasons I don’t know while I was still a kid. In hindsight, because she was a reptile, it was poor husbandry. I’ve lost a lot of reptile pets over the years to poor husbandry because I just didn’t know better.
The point of sharing this story with you is mostly because I didn’t have anything better in mind to talk about this weekend, and I sometimes enjoy chuckling at my inflated childhood ego. Apparently, when I told mom about my first best friend in preschool, I told her that this girl was my best friend because we were the two prettiest girls in class. When my mom said that is not how you should choose your friends, my response was, “Well she’s smart like me too!” Lack of confidence was definitely not a problem for little me.
“Behold the turtle. He makes progress only when he sticks his neck out.” ~ James Bryant Conant
