When I was 5 years old, I really wanted a pet. My goldfish (Wanda and William) had both died, and my parents said no. After begging over and over again, I wandered into the backyard and got myself a pet snail. I decided it was a girl and named her Sunbake.
I kept her in a little tank that came with a butterfly catching kit, fed her leaves, played with her, and even took her to school with me. I think I only had her for a few weeks before one day, my year 6 "buddy" decided to squash and kill her. I cried so much that my teacher had to call the priest (Catholic school) to calm me down and tell me she was now buried in the cemetery. I was much too upset after that to get another snail, and didn't have another pet until Pecksie, when I was 8.
I was reminded of this on Wednesday night when I got home from work experience at the Vet, and saw a whole family of snails near our front door. I considered picking them up and moving them out of the way one by one, so they wouldn't get stepped on, but I was exhausted and I figured they'd have moved by the time Matt got home that night. I wish I had, because I found one of them dead the next day. That made me sad.
My current pet wish list includes a dog, a cat, a turtle, and a mouse- none of which I am allowed to have while living in this house. So I decided to irritate my Mother today by announcing that I was getting another snail and she couldn't stop me. She just sighed and said "I'll find the tank for you."
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