A/N: This one is kinda sad. I just thought I should warn you. I was also 10 and never actually owned a turtle...

One morning, I got up, I did my routine. I went in the kitchen to check on my turtle, Boxer. He did not move. I knew instantly that something was wrong with him. I ran into the dining room and told my mom that something was wrong with Boxer. She went with me back into the kitchen. She said, "I'm sorry honey, but Boxer is dead."

"If he is," I said, sobbing, "then we should bury him." I went and got my brother so we could go bury him in the garden.

He was my first pet. Six months later, I got another turtle. I called him Boxer II.