The Tale of Timmy

Me----C, what 3 things do you want for Christmas?
Clark---a cat, a bike, and a jedi costume
Me--Clark, you're allergic to cats. You can't have something that's not healthy for you.
C---Mom, I'm not asking you, I'm asking Santa.
Me--I know honey, but Santa has to get permission for pets. He wants you to be healthy, too.
C---OKAY, Mom (drawn out like I'm sure I never did). I'll just get a tortoise instead.

That's how it all started. Matt and I thought "no biggie." Great first pet, CHEAP, easy to handle, great for responsibility. Boy we were wrong on SO many levels (except great for responsibility.)

Unfortunately we waited until mid Dec to begin researching this thing. Really we thought--go to local pet store, buy a turtle (excuse me---C kept correcting me that he wanted a tortoise.) Well you CAN do that, but it would be $100+ bucks and be a Russian something or other tortoise. Anyway, LONG STORY SHORT, we spent many hours of research/conversations and purchased a tortoise over the internet for only $40. (GREAT price, but the shipping from CALIFORNIA was $50. UGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm turning red with embarassment as I type this, but it was getting down to the wire to get this for C and it was ALL he was talking about.)Blah, blah, blah....get the tortoise, terrarium, special lights, food, etc---lots of time/effort/money and Matt and I fell in love with the little guy several days before Christmas. In fact, I kept wondering where Matt was and he kept sneaking down to the office to "check on" (translate talk to) Timmy. He kinda stole my heart, too b/c when I'd talk to him, he'd crawl towards my voice. (I should be embarrassed about typing THAT.)

Christmas morning---Clark had a FIT over Timmy! This is the best present ever, he's just what I wanted, thank you Santa, I bet you were cold in the north pole, oh you're so cute, etc., etc.,etc. He couldn't wait to tell everyone about his new best buddy. Overjoyed! In fact, when we told the kids that we'd have a foster child coming the next day, C said, "Oh, mom. If I can take care of a turtle, I can surely take care of a foster child." (like duh, I can handle this.)

Things are seemingly going well. No real issues. Until Tues Jan 1st. Timmy doesn't want to eat much. We figure, hibernating?/yuckky food?/who knows with turtles.

I get a message from Matt Friday while I'm in Baltimore. "Gaga's in the hospital, etc, etc, etc. and oh, by the way...I think Timmy is dead."
"WHAT??????????? Why would you think that? " I say when I get to talk to him later.
Matt--he didn't move when I fed him this morning or returned him to his cage.
Me--sounds like he's dead. What did you tell Clark?
Matt--nothing yet. Let's see if we can "hibernate" him and just move him around the tank until the reptile show this month. Hopefully it's next weekend.
Me--might work. Let's try it.

Well, I get home Sunday and we check out the reptile show. None until Jan 19th. Holy Cow! I can't lie/trick that long AND Timmy will SMELL soon!
Sure enough--I got a whiff of a stinch as I walked by his "home" Monday and thought quite certain I had to tell Clark. Poor C had a fever of 103 and I couldn't stand to break his heart while he was coughing his lungs out. Tomorrow. We just "distracted" him (translate "lied") when he'd ask/look at Timmy.

Tuesday came---E has pneumonia, C still has a fever, but the tortoise is stinking. The truth must be told. I honestly couldn't lie to him anymore either. I told him the truth, he cried/coughed his heart out, and talked about missing him all day.

I'll finish the rest of the story---which is precious, tomorrow. Life lessons at such a young age.