Eliot

For the last two years now, we've had a painter turtle. Eliot was saved by my husband's nephew from the bottom of a community pool one winter. There were four turtles total, most likely all from the same nest, who wandered into the pool through the shallow end and couldn't find their way back out. Our nephew could have easily scooped them up and set them free in the woods to fend for themselves, but he was worried that they wouldn't survive the cold.

Since there was no one willing to take four baby painter turtles, they were split up and we became proud parents to Eliot.

When he came to us, he was no bigger than a silver dollar. Our nephew brought him over in a plastic Chinese take out container with holes cut into the lid. I took one look at him and cringed.

I'll admit, he was cuter once my husband set up the turtle tank and he was behind glass.

For the next two years, this reptile was treated like royalty in our house - at least by my husband. I paid very little attention to him. There was an understanding that I would not have to feed him, clean his tank or remember to turn his light on or off (that turtles even needed a special light was news to me). He started out getting turtle pellets for food, but slowly moved up in the world to dried worms and live fish dinners.

One day I walked passed the tank and saw three dead crickets floating at the top of the water. After having a near heart attack, my husband and I had a little chat about what Eliot could and could not have to eat. God knows what would end up in there next. And no, I didn't care that the pet store sold them for food. It was bad enough that there was dried worms hanging out in my refrigerator; I did not need to include dead crickets too.

Eliot more than doubled his size in a matter of months. We upgraded his tank to a very nice larger-than-allowed-in-our-apartment floor model. I started to enjoy watching him float and swim around in there. It was very relaxing.

When Baby M was born, I would sit with her next to the tank and she would watch him, even as a very small infant. I thought she'd be afraid of his talons or the way he would come right up against the glass to watch you watching him. But she loved him. As she got bigger, I'd let her touch the glass and she got a kick out the way Eliot would follow her hand from one side of the tank to the other.

Because of The Wonder Pets, his name morphed into Eliot Tuck. Could we be the only people to have a turtle that had a first and last name? Baby M loved it though. Any mention of an Eliot or a Tuck in our house had her immediately looking over at him.

We made a decision the other day to release Eliot to the wild. With Baby M starting to toddle around, we're both afraid that she might pull the tank over onto herself. The likelihood of that is very slim, but since there is still the chance, it's time to let him go.

My husband said he would do it by himself. He'd bring him down to the lake he was found near and let him go. I got the call just a few minutes ago. Eliot is safely, and hopefully happily, swimming in his new home.

I'm surprised by how upset this has made me. I am actually going to miss him.

Maybe there is a little bit of an animal (and reptile) lover in me after all.