[Those of us in our nuclear family with R’s in our names like to tease E that he has none. LOL!]

At our house, Purrrrrl could see Turtleor any time she wanted; his tank was on a fairly short stand. At first, she liked watching him swim, but when the new wore off, she never gave it a second glance.

Over the weekend, Purrrrrl got to meet Turtleor in a different way.

In an effort to clean Turtleor’s aquarium, we dumped all the rocks and all the water, washed the rocks (broke our garbage disposal), and started as close as we could get to anew.

Meanwhile, Turtleor was in a bucket and scratching up a storm to get to where he could see or just be.

E brought Purrrrrl over to him. She didn’t seem to want to know more about the scratching creature, so I held him up to her. She sniffed. He hissed at her and retreated into his shell. Fine. He’s little and she’s huge and scary.

But SHE is the one who shook in terror, clawed her way from E’s lap, and bolted out of the kitchen. What a scaredy cat.

Later, however, she returned: she sneaked up to the bucket and peered over into it. No sparks of interest, but also no flying of fur and scales.

Next time, Turtleor gets to walk around!