Yoshi's Famous!

Remember that time when I was published? Apparently SMITH Magazine really likes me, because I'm their featured memoir of the day. Yay! So check it out. You can even see my beautiful face (in a picture taken by Colure!) I figure if I never make it in the publishing world, at least SMITH liked me.

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And now, the story behind the memoir.

I really did have a turtle that ran away. Back in high school, my friend Brandon owned two turtles. He hated them and never fed them, cared for them, even looked at them. The summer before I left for college I decided to adopt them from him. I didn't like seeing them treated like that. So, Donatello and Splinter entered my life (yes, I know Splinter was a rat - I just thought it was a cute name.) The turtles ended up being amazing friends those first few nights in my dorm room. With rumors scattering around of turtles, people were lured into my room. I'd take Donatello for walks (he really liked to sit in my hand when I walked down the hall) and people would stop me. I was the turtle girl, and really, I was okay with that.

But, of course, all good things come to an end. Since the turtles lived for a year without proper nurturing, they never fully grew nor restored full health. So, sadly, during Christmas Break, Donatello passed away and was buried in my backyard. A few months later, right at the end of the year, Splinter as well passed away. With a shovel, a blanket, and his favorite toy, my friend Renee and I buried him on campus, under my favorite tree.

It was fall semester of my second year of college and I wanted a pet. On a whim, my friend Manley convinced me to get another turtle - one I'd raise from newborn status. And so, after lying a bit to the pet store employees, Yoshi entered my life. He was the exact size of a quarter and I loved him. He used to sit on my shoulder while I did homework. He ran (fast!) around my room; he loved to roam on his own. I fed him by hand; he'd never bite me.

I was very adamant about giving Yoshi proper light, proper toys, and proper food. Because of that, he grew...at an alarming rate. In two years he went through three tanks. By the time I hit grad school, he was the size of a composition notebook. He was also miserable. He hated his tank, he hated his food, I even think he started to hate me. So when I moved into a townhouse, I knew that he needed a new life. I decided to bring him to a nearby lake and set him free. Let him find his Princess Peach, or whoever. Little did I know that he had plans of his own.

Since he still loved to roam, I set him on the back porch for a few minutes while moving boxes into the house. The porch was elevated and had a railing - his fat shell could never fit through the bars. Moments later I went to the backyard only to find that he was gone. My Yoshi...ran away from home.

I looked all over the house and neighborhood. I left a trail of his food, hoping he'd come back. Sure, I wanted to set him free anyway, but not there. He needed the safety of a lake. He needed water and shade. Every time I drove past my house, I'd go extremely slow, in case he was there. I stopped on the side of the road every time I saw a turtle nearby (which was actually a startling amount of times). None of them had his red stripe. And so, Yoshi found freedom without me giving it to him.

I still think he's out there. He was a stubborn turtle, he knew what he wanted. He found the lake and is sitting on the highest rock, basking in the sun, with a female at his side. He sometimes swims around and watches as people throw bread at him. Every once in a while, someone will throw his favorite, lettuce, and he'll remember that lady who one day, many years ago, let him sit on her shoulder.