Jeffrey's Story

This is Jeffrey, our red-eared slider turtle, eating his breakfast today. I’ve been wanting to tell Jeffrey’s story on here, so here goes.

New Year’s Eve 2002, we went to our friend’s house, like we had for many years, to watch movies and celebrate the New Year. That year, for Christmas, their small son received two, little turtles, the size of a quarter from an aunt. There were in one of those small, plastic carriers, with an attached lid. My friend, knowing that I am an animal lover, begged me to take them home with me since she was afraid that her son would get salmonella from them and die. I guess she didn’t care if I got salmonella.

So, since I always seem to have SUCKER written on my forehead, I took them home. Within a day, they had a new set up that was pretty much a mansion for them. I had an old aquarium that I set up with a filter, air bubbles and even built them a basking area with some large stones. Every time Mr. Bruises would approach them, he would sing the theme from The Jefferson’s “Well we’re moving on up!”

I dare you to watch this video and NOT dance along with these guys. Bet you can't do it!

One turtle was very flamboyant, swimming wildly and comically in the water, while the other was more subdued and preferred to sleep. I named them Jack and Will, respectively after characters from Will and Grace.

In May, I was going to Hawaii on a cruise that I earned from selling Stampin’ Up! products. My mother was coming daily to take care of the cat and guinea pig, since Riley was going to my inlaws to stay. (Travis wasn’t around then) I instructed my mother to make sure if Will died, to remove him from the tank so that he wasn’t stinking up the place. I had a suspicion that he was going to die because he just was never active, just laid around a lot.

When I returned home from Hawaii, my mother said that while Will was there Monday and Tuesday, when she went on Wednesday, he was gone. She thought he got out. There is no way in sweet hell that that turtle got out. No way. Impossible. I waited an additional month to clean the tank and when I did, I didn’t find one toenail of Will’s. Jeffrey had eaten every bit of his brother. I guess when turtles get ill, their shells get soft. I can only hope that Will died and then Jack ate him and that Jack didn’t eat him alive.  (How about that Little Tank of Horrors scenario, Burgh Baby?)

From that point on, Jack was known as Jeffrey. As in Dahmer. Who else would you name a turtle after when he eats his housemate?