Farewell, Rocko...
Dear Rocko,
If you didn't notice, I haven't been home for months at a time because of school--but Mom always keeps me up-to-date with your antics, as well as Roxy's, so don't think I didn't know about your bullying Roxy when Mom is feeding you two. I think I spoiled you when we first brought you home--you were such a little thing, even smaller than Roxy, and she was so aggressive back then! I was afraid that she would eat all your food sticks so I might have slipped an extra couple of sticks while she wasn't paying attention. When you finally caught up to, and eventually surpassed, Roxy in size you became the big tortoise in the tank and had to be the one restrained during feeding...such a greedy critter you were. Despite all our efforts, you never did learn to be the gentletortoise.
Even so, you were an integral part of our family, right from the start. I remember the day when Mom and Dad brought you home from Chinatown to keep Roxy company. I was so surprised! And elated! You were such a small little thing, so shy that your head and tail and limbs shot back into your tiny shell at the slightest sound. It was so adorable, though you must have been terrified. I apologize for Roxy's rude reception on your first day in the tank--I'm sure she didn't mean any serious harm by snapping at you.
But it seemed that even though we temporarily separated you into an empty tofu box on your first night, you were able to seek adventure all on your own. What a panic you caused when Mom found you missing the next morning! She woke me up at 5 am and we searched for you throughout the house, every nook and cranny--after getting over the shock that you survived the three-foot drop from the kitchen counter to the floor. (How in the world did you manage that? Shell of steel??) We were rather relieved that we didn't find you inert on the kitchen floor, but you were missing a whole week! We feared that you had died of hunger. We had pretty much given up on finding you by the time I felt the gentle curve of your shell under my bare foot...but there you were. You're lucky I noticed something strange underfoot before I put my weight on in, else your days would have ended then and there...probably.
It was a wonderful surprise to find you again, and even more wonderful that we had the opportunity to take care of you and Roxy these eleven years. I may not have been home much these past two years, but like the rest of my family, you are very much a part permanent fixture in my heart. Whenever I go home and see Roxy, I'll always think of the once-shy tank mate that always let her mount his shell on warm days, basking in the sun coming through the kitchen window. (To tell the truth, I was always hoping that you two would have baby tortoises together. >_>)
We'll miss you dearly.
...This hurts. When I first heard about Rocko from my mom tonight (Tuesday night, 9:30-ish), I was...numb. A little bit later, it started to sink in, and my chest tightened, and my eyes started to water, and I was suddenly very thirsty...and someone knocked on my door and I had to compose myself and answer. So I was okay for a little while. And then I wrote the above letter to Rocko in hopes of some sort of closure, and I thought it helped, but a minute later I realized that I was bringing him back to life and it was too soon. So I focused on reading, and that's kept me going until now. I'm afraid to go to bed. I'm going to lie in bed and I feel that the sadness will overwhelm me. I don't want to cry myself to sleep. I know that I need to deal with the grief, but it hurts so much to even think of having to deal with it...
My gosh, what am I going to do if something happened to a humanoid member of my family?
I want my mommy. =(
If you didn't notice, I haven't been home for months at a time because of school--but Mom always keeps me up-to-date with your antics, as well as Roxy's, so don't think I didn't know about your bullying Roxy when Mom is feeding you two. I think I spoiled you when we first brought you home--you were such a little thing, even smaller than Roxy, and she was so aggressive back then! I was afraid that she would eat all your food sticks so I might have slipped an extra couple of sticks while she wasn't paying attention. When you finally caught up to, and eventually surpassed, Roxy in size you became the big tortoise in the tank and had to be the one restrained during feeding...such a greedy critter you were. Despite all our efforts, you never did learn to be the gentletortoise.
Even so, you were an integral part of our family, right from the start. I remember the day when Mom and Dad brought you home from Chinatown to keep Roxy company. I was so surprised! And elated! You were such a small little thing, so shy that your head and tail and limbs shot back into your tiny shell at the slightest sound. It was so adorable, though you must have been terrified. I apologize for Roxy's rude reception on your first day in the tank--I'm sure she didn't mean any serious harm by snapping at you.
But it seemed that even though we temporarily separated you into an empty tofu box on your first night, you were able to seek adventure all on your own. What a panic you caused when Mom found you missing the next morning! She woke me up at 5 am and we searched for you throughout the house, every nook and cranny--after getting over the shock that you survived the three-foot drop from the kitchen counter to the floor. (How in the world did you manage that? Shell of steel??) We were rather relieved that we didn't find you inert on the kitchen floor, but you were missing a whole week! We feared that you had died of hunger. We had pretty much given up on finding you by the time I felt the gentle curve of your shell under my bare foot...but there you were. You're lucky I noticed something strange underfoot before I put my weight on in, else your days would have ended then and there...probably.
It was a wonderful surprise to find you again, and even more wonderful that we had the opportunity to take care of you and Roxy these eleven years. I may not have been home much these past two years, but like the rest of my family, you are very much a part permanent fixture in my heart. Whenever I go home and see Roxy, I'll always think of the once-shy tank mate that always let her mount his shell on warm days, basking in the sun coming through the kitchen window. (To tell the truth, I was always hoping that you two would have baby tortoises together. >_>)
We'll miss you dearly.
...This hurts. When I first heard about Rocko from my mom tonight (Tuesday night, 9:30-ish), I was...numb. A little bit later, it started to sink in, and my chest tightened, and my eyes started to water, and I was suddenly very thirsty...and someone knocked on my door and I had to compose myself and answer. So I was okay for a little while. And then I wrote the above letter to Rocko in hopes of some sort of closure, and I thought it helped, but a minute later I realized that I was bringing him back to life and it was too soon. So I focused on reading, and that's kept me going until now. I'm afraid to go to bed. I'm going to lie in bed and I feel that the sadness will overwhelm me. I don't want to cry myself to sleep. I know that I need to deal with the grief, but it hurts so much to even think of having to deal with it...
My gosh, what am I going to do if something happened to a humanoid member of my family?
I want my mommy. =(