Petting time

It seems like certain 'types' of pets go in and out of fashion like so many other things, and maybe we can even link them to a particular era.  Tortoises, for instance.  Tortoises were very popular pets here in the '70s, weren't they?  Unfortunately for them they were being shipped to the UK in huge numbers, cruelly packed in appalling conditions – a great percentage never made the journey.  But the ones that survived were quickly despatched to pet shops and bought by enthusiastic children - we'd all been watching Blue Peter. Some had their names painted on their shells and occasionally may have had chains or ropes drilled into them - it seemed nobody questioned whether this process would cause them stress or pain.  

My dear little tortoise Timmy managed to survive a few winter hibernations in a cardboard box in the garage, his shell intact (although I did give it a bit of a polish with Blue Band margarine on occasion).   He enjoyed a diet of dandelion leaves and bananas and had a remarkably runny nose out of which he could blow the most impressive little bubbles of snot.  I could relate to him rather well at the age of nine.

But Timmy wasn't my very first personal pet.  That was a goldfish.  During a trip to the local fair (where else?) my sister and I each won a goldfish sealed inside a tiny polythene bag of water.  I'd probably despair at the number which were flushed down toilets soon after being won on the coconut shy - but I'm happy to report that ours were relocated into a rather splendid tank with rocks and shells and all sorts of Neptunian items in it to make them feel a bit at home.

From inauspicious beginnings in a plastic bag at a small-town-England fair with its rock’n’roll soundtrack and dodgy dodgems, Judith and Geraldine went on to live surprisingly long (and hopefully happy) lives in their comfortable tank chez nous.  In summer they took a holiday in the little pond in the garden, where they could mingle with tadpoles and the occasional newt.  The rest of the year they were safe and warm on a ledge in the bathroom where we watched them, and from which they had a fish-eye lens view of a human family as we took our baths and used the loo.    I think we got the better deal of the two.

Goldfish with attitude