We had our painted turtle, Clemmy, for 18 years. I fished him out of a badly polluted stream when he was still a baby. He wasn’t in very good shape, but a diet of hamburger meat and other goodies soon put him to rights.
Painted turtles have a reputation for being skittish, but Clemmy was as tame as could be. He used to stretch out his neck so you could scratch his lower jaw. Fed by hand every day, usually with whatever we were having for supper: that did the trick. If we were having scallops or lobster, he’d climb out of his tank and make a beeline for the table. He should have known we wouldn’t forget to save some for him.
Once upon a time Patty put a little turtle figurine in his tank, and was shocked when he went into a courtship ritual with it. Live and learn.
And of course we’d take him on vacation with us, wherever we went.
I’m missing him, just now.