I have decided that, should I ever adopt a pet, it will be turtle, and when I adopt this turtle, if it is a he-turtle (not that I know how to check for such things, but I hope someone at the petstore can check for me), I will call him Zed.
Zed and I will nod grimly to each other in the mornings as I sip my coffee and he chews his lettuce. “Another day to face,” I will say to Zed.
“Face it boldly, then,” he will respond in the secret language of turtles.
Then I will come home from the office, and it will be time for Zed’s exercise. I will let him out of his terrarrium and he will have free run of the apartment, barring any nooks or crannies that would be unsafe for a turtle to explore. When he has had his run, we will sit on the couch together and watch CSI together as we contemplatively chew our lettuce leaves. At random, seemingly inappropriate moments, we will nod sagaciously.
