The sad, sad tale of Turtle

When Lucy stayed with my student teacher over the July 4th weekend, Rachel was sweet enough to buy Lucy a new toy, a turtle with a tennis ball for the body. When Lucy came home with it, I thought for sure she'd ignore it as she hasn't had toys like these since puppyhood. I'd finally stopped buying them when it became clear she had but a single-minded purpose: tearing it mercilessly to shreds. That, sadly, was to be the fate of Turtle, but thanks to his durability, it took longer. For while, she did actually play with him. She'd carry him around, play a little fetch in the apartment, that sort of thing. But then began his slow decent. First, the eyes went. Then, the arms and legs were chewed up. Finally, Lucy started holding him down and tearing off the fuzz on tennis balls (also why we only have rubber tennis balls). It took some days, but she finally tore open the tennis ball and removed whatever is inside. I began to find little pieces of rubber around the apartment that she would occasionally mistake for food and try to eat. After a few days in intensive care, Turtle was buried in the trash can.

We'll miss you, Turtle. You were a fine friend and relatively durable.