He was just a little turtle. He didn’t do anything wrong. He was a good little turtle. I don’t really know what happened, but he wasn’t a very strong little turtle. He brought me joy every single day when I saw his little shell and his head poke out. We still have his tank in the garage and I always have this sinking feeling in my stomach every time I walk past it. My reading teacher recently read a story about a turtle just like Houdini who died, except he didn’t really die. Even though this happened more than a year ago, I still shed a tear for Houdini every time I think about him, even now. May Houdini rest in peace.

(And yes, this is very much a true story)