Have you ever seen a purse turtle?

I think there wouldn’t be nearly as many gangs, kids killing kids or troubled teenagers today if more urban kids had pets.

My best friend in high school didn’t speak a word of French, knew no calculus and didn’t play on the football team. Neither did I. I think I had the potential to be a rebellious bad boy but I had a wonderful dog who loved me unconditionally and got me through my difficult teenage years.

I had other pets too. Steers, lambs, pigs, cows, ducks, rabbits, chickens and heaven forbid even a cat. Our house was filled with pets too as we always had a canary or a parakeet and the goldfish bowl always had one or two residents, even though we had a hard time keeping the goldfish because we lived in earthquake country and they kept sloshing out of the bowl.

We also had several of those very small turtles that lived in a plastic dish with a palm tree sticking out of it. The tiny turtles didn’t last very long but they were way more social than the big turtle we had that I saw twice in 10 years.

I was inspired to write about turtles because a dear friend recently adopted a pet turtle for her cute 2-year-old daughter. They went to a turtle rescue preserve where there were over 300 turtles in all sizes and ages that people had dropped off or were discovered in places they shouldn’t be ... like sitting atop a fence post where they were placed as a sick practical joke.

My friends paid $85 for their turtle which they optimistically named Buddy, not really knowing if it was a he or a she. My friends were immediately drawn to Buddy because of its handicap. Someone had painted Buddy’s shell a bright white, probably so it was easier to find than our turtle was. When my friends go to the lake for the weekend the mother-in-law visits Buddy twice a day to feed it at home a chilled romaine and iceberg lettuce mix.

The full article is available in our e-Edition. Click here to subscribe.