Sepia Saturday challenges bloggers to share family history
through old photographs.
This week’s Sepia Saturday photo prompt of the pipe-smoking soldier inspecting the battalion mascot
conjured up the faint memory of my sister’s pet turtle, Terri. It’s a sad story. Prepare to weep.
People who grew up
with dogs are usually sympathetic to the plight of a child who longs for the
companionship of man’s best friend, a loyal companion who would enjoy a run
through the neighborhood, a game of fetch, a belly-rub, a snuggle.
 |
| Uncle Renza Davis, Momma, her brother Orvin Davis, Jr. and Fritz |
My mother always
had a dog as a child. (I wrote about
Fritz previously HERE.)
But contrary to
the belief that once a dog person always a dog person, Momma refused to allow
my sister or me to have a dog. No cat,
either. What? Hadn’t she read the parenting magazines that
promised having a pet would teach responsibility and compassion?
Momma did,
however, give in and let us have a goldfish, four of them, actually: Pixie and Dixie, Charlie (no doubt named in
honor of the popular StarKist tag-line “Sorry, Charlie”), and some other one
whose name is long forgotten, probably something equally clever like “Goldie.”
Once we mastered
goldfish-level responsibility and compassion, we moved up to Turtle. I was over the need for a pet by then, so
Terri was Mary Jollette’s pet and her responsibility.
 |
| Photo courtesy HA HA of my sister at age 6 Terri is the little brown thing on the left. |
Terri had a bowl
with a palm tree and colorful gravel.
She could walk in a circle and enjoy the view from the ever-clouding
plastic bowl. After awhile she quit
walking. Her shell turned brown and soft. We thought she was dying, but our neighbor
assured us this weird look was normal for such a turtle.
But eventually it
was clear that Terri was not going to make it.
She was buried in a box in the backyard.
We held a funeral and we all cried.
 |
| Mary Jollette on the right with her friend Susan. Terri is buried somewhere close to this area under a fig tree that Daddy cut down. |
After that
traumatic experience, I understood the popularity of the pet rock. No tears for them!
Come out of your
shell and visit Sepia Saturday to see what other bloggers have made of this
week’s theme.
©
2014, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.
Poor little Terri, with an "i". I always wanted one of those little turtles. I think that they no longer sell them do to salmonella poisoning or something.
ReplyDeleteAs always, I loved your post!
Kathy M.
Yes, Terri always hated when people spelled her name with a "y." LOL
DeleteShe was a sweet turtle *sniff*
ReplyDeleteSusan and I look so elegant in our dress ups! haha!
Yes, very well-dressed for cement-pad sitting.
DeleteYou brought back memories of many pet funerals. It really never got any easier and we still suffer mightily when we lose one.
ReplyDeleteNo, and that's probably why Momma wouldn't let us have a dog. She probably didn't want to cry whenever it should die.
DeleteCome out of your shell....love it....I do enjoy bloggers' witty segues back to the mother blog!
ReplyDelete"Mother blog" -- I LOVE that!
DeleteWhat a well-written post. I laughed at the part about graduating from gold fish to turtle. But I cried when I heard of Terri's demise. Laughed again when you've decided to opt for a pet rock.
ReplyDeleteNancy
Yeah, well I had to lighten the mood. I didn't want anyone on a suicide-watch after reading this.
DeleteThis really brings back memories of childhood pets. We never had a cat, but we did have goldfish, painted turtles, parakeets, and many many dogs. They never live as long as you wish they would but father's make wonderful funeral directors.
ReplyDeleteFathers do indeed! At least they can dig a hole.
DeleteLovely blog Wendy. Brought back memories.
ReplyDeletethanks~
DeleteI never was a pet person. I appreciate others' fondness for pets, but for some reason most who do, think there's something wrong with me that I don't share that feeling.
ReplyDeleteI'm not a pet person either. I must have gotten it from my mother.
DeleteRest in peace, Terri. Always a sad, cry-a-bucket day when pets die.
ReplyDeleteYou got that right. I had a good cry over my daughter's hamster. Sheesh ~
DeleteNow that is a sad tale. I used to keep these little turtles (terrapins) myself. I remember deciding that the initial bowl was too small for the creature and getting larger and larger tanks only to discover that the wretched creature expanded to the size of the available tank.
ReplyDeleteYIKES -- I guess in a sick way I'm glad Terri died before needing a big aquarium.
DeleteWe had one of those turtles in the bowl with a palm tree. When I taught first grade I had a turtle for my class in a large aquarium. They loved Sparky. I still love turtles.
ReplyDeleteSparky - what a funny little name, rather ironic too.
DeleteMy eldest boy had terrapins but they did not survive for long. I don't remember funerals for them; for Deirdre my daughter's hamster the tears watered the garden for weeks.
ReplyDeleteOh yeah, we cried hamster tears over my daughter's hamster Buddy. He's buried in the back yard among the azaleas.
DeleteI never shed tears for goldfish and turtles, but I still remember the family dog dying when I was about three or four. I get upset even reading about pet dogs and cats dying.
ReplyDeleteThat's why I don't want a dog -- that's too much like a real pet. I couldn't take it when my sister's dog died a few years ago!
DeleteWe had the same pet and turtle experience! I'm saddened to think that there were thousands of us out there not allowed a cat or a dog. Doomed to fish and turtles. So sad.
ReplyDeleteJust read your post. You have a more complete story, that's for sure!
DeleteOkay, not so much a fan of weeping today, so I'm extremely happy you let us know first, so I could STOP in the name of TEARS- and just enjoy your most darling photo! I'm trying my hardest to not even glance at any comments- see you next week here- !
ReplyDeleteIt really wasn't all THAT sad. Exercising a little artistic freedom.
DeleteWell I for one am glad you issued a warning Wendy. I had the Kleenex handy ;) Perhaps poor Terri needed some calcium in the form of my cuttlefish bones. If only we knew then what we know now.
ReplyDeleteYes, cuttlefish bones might have done the trick.
DeleteOh, poor little Terri. And your poor sister Mary. It can be quite tramatic to lose a pet.
ReplyDeleteOur daughter had several fish while she was growing up. And we have a "fish cemetery" of sorts in our backyard. Our daughter even painted rocks with the names of the fish who passed away on them to mark the spots where they were buried.
We weren't forward-thinking enough to make real tombstones.
DeleteThat is very sad. The poor wee turtle never got to be a turtle.
ReplyDeleteDon't make me cry, now.
DeleteThe history of Terri the turtle is indeed a mournful tale. But consider that if he/she were a tortoise they might still be muddling along in the back garden. My sister-in-law has two tortoises and they are now close to 40! She has made provision for their care in her will!
ReplyDeleteAs an adult, I'm all for the disposable pet.
DeleteThat's quite the turnabout!!
ReplyDeleteFrom a sad story [I can relate to]to some a conclusion,
a reference to the pet rock. That got me laughing.
Never had one of those nor wanted one.
I never understood the concept...
but it made a great conclusion to this post.
Though, a pet rock, it's always there when you come home,
doesn't poop nor stink. Doesn't lie or cheat on you.
It's better than a husband or a dog,
but the conversation is not very stimulating,
among other things...
Nah, gotta keep trying with men and pets!!
No way around it!!
;)~
HUGZ
I like the pro-con discussion of pet rocks. I had considered doing the pro-con of turtles, but there weren't many points in either column.
DeleteGlad you enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteWendi, all problems sorted, the virtual turtle on the desktop. No tears at all, even if it disappears into cyber sphere. Interesting that your Mum did not allow a dog or a cat. I always had a dog and once I smuggled in a cat and hid it in the outhouse which was not used anymore!
ReplyDeleteWhat a cute story about keeping a cat in the abandoned outhouse. I trust there was a lid!
DeleteOh Yes,Pets Of Any Persuasion Form A Strong Focal-point with Their Owners.
ReplyDeleteHow Sad The Tears,But Bravo The Memory!