Friday, October 12, 2007

The Tortise or the Turtle

I think I want a pet turtle. I would want to be a turtle, but I think I'd like to have more room to keep my stuff. They really don't have that much room, without having the whole four-walls-and-a-roof thing going on. They don't even have pockets--if they want to store food for the winter, I fear they have to pretend to be chipmunks and store food in their cheeks.

Not that they have particularly food-worthy cheeks. So I guess that they just have to keep hunting all winter long. Or become pets.

And since I feel sorry for them having to work so hard with so little reward, I'm wanting to do my part. I want a pet turtle. I couldn't very well hug him and squeeze him, but I could call him George. And I could give him food. Lots and lots of food, so he could retire in comfort instead of being stuck on the street (but not homeless) begging for scraps.

I'd like to have a pet turtle, but I don't know that I really have room, or that I'm even allowed in my place. But if I got a pet turtle, at least I could have something to stop that door from blowing open whenever there's the least bit of wind. Or he could take the place of the kitten and be a good paper weight.

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