A Blue Ribbon Event

Forget the Westminster Dog Show and other prestigious events. I’m not impressed. I have a blue ribbon for showing my pet.

When I was growing up in St. Ann, Missouri, a suburb of St. Louis, the neighborhood parks department had summer programs for kids. I learned to make lopsided popsicle-stick jewelry boxes, tea towels and other useless items.

The highlight of the summer was the big pet show. My friends had cuddly puppies and cute kittens. I had a little brother with severe allergies, so we couldn’t have cats, dogs or birds in our home.

My pet was a turtle. A big old box turtle with red-orange spots all over his scaly hide, like a bad rash. He showed up one day in our yard. I named him Spot.

Spot lived on bugs and lettuce and slept in the shade near the patio, except when he debuted at the pet show. I took him in a crepe-paper decorated cardboard box. I admit he was no match for a pedigreed dog or even a pound hound. But he had a certain style. In fact, Spot was the only red-orange pet at the show.

We all lined up with our pets by the picnic tables. The judges, four high school seniors known as "the big kids," listened to our spiel and rated our entries. Spot was pretty nervous (for a turtle) since Goldie the retriever kept sniffing and drooling on him. The turtle retreated into his shell and slammed the door.

Great. I was now exhibiting a legless, headless rock.

We were preceded by unprecedented kitten and canine cuteness. Dogs rolled over, sat up, begged, barked on command, and peed on the taxpayers’ tender young trees. Cats meowed and batted yarn balls.

Then it was my turn with good old Spot.

I faced the judges.

"This is my pet, Spot," I said. My voice quavered. I knew this was stupid. Spot wasn’t even a real pet. My heart was pounding. I was embarrassing myself before the whole neighborhood.

I held up the turtle, still locked in his shell. The judges looked unimpressed. The kids laughed derisively. I was losing my audience.

"He does tricks," I said.

I stood with my feet slightly apart. I put the turtle on the thin, summer-dry grass between my tennis shoes. "Go, Spot," I said.

The turtle poked out his prehistoric head and crawled slowly, ponderously, between my feet.

"See?" I said.

The judges saw. The judges laughed so hard, they could hardly sit up. Even at age nine, I knew they weren’t laughing with me. A few more dogs and cats later, and the judges retired to the concession stand for their deliberations.

Then they announced the winners in the various categories: Cutest pet (a dog). Most talented (another dog). Fluffiest pet (a cat).

"And we have a blue ribbon for a very special pet," said a female judge with perfect blond hair. "Spot wins first prize for the ugliest pet."

We didn’t win best in show. It was more like worst in show. But it was still a blue ribbon.

Spot didn’t wear a collar to display his ribbon, so it was taped to his shell.

"We won, Spot," I said to my officially ugly pet.

I wasn’t sure how a turtle would celebrate, but I gave him an extra lettuce leaf and a fresh-caught cricket.

I still have Spot’s blue ribbon in a scrapbook, along with the awful memory of the sniggering judges and smirking kids.

When I face a particularly tough audience, I’m back in St. Ann, holding up my turtle and saying, "This is my pet, Spot" and hoping for a miracle.

Sometimes, it happens.

By Elaine Viets

Comments

[Laura K]

In second grade science class, my sister was given a snail. I think the idea was to examine the growth of the snail or something. I don't really remember, since we are talking some thirty years ago.

Anyway, this thing started out the size of a pin head, and grew. And grew. And grew.

And it lived and lived and lived. It aquired a name: Slimy. When my sister went to college, it was still around, happily eating lettuce in its little tub on the kitchen counter.

I bet he was uglier than Spot. But neither I nor my sister would ever have had the nerve to show him. We applaud you.

[Tom]

This is unique. I've never met anyone with an award-winning turtle.

Been reading a blog the last couple days about the book biz. Over and over the author makes the point that Fortune favors the prepared, the audacious, and those able to think on their feet.

But to be able to recognize odd miracles when they happen - that's a greater gift.

Yep - pets are good for kids. Our pets help raise us right. Thank you for the insight.

[William Simon]

I love this story! A Blue Ribbon IS a Blue Ribbon.

As for them laughing, remember what they can do if they can't take a joke...:)

[Harley]

Oh, my God, I love this story.
Not that he was a pet or anything, but the guys doing brush clearance in our yard yesterday found a big rattlesnake. Big! They chopped off his head and he still rattled and shimmied around forEVER. My 7-year old, watching with me, said, "Disgusting!" But that might have been her stomach flu talking.

[Cinema Dave]

That's telling them Elaine!
Defend that which looks ugly!
For ugly is what ugly does!

Spot may be the beautiful swan turtle
in the great swampland in the sky, ready to snap the toes of those children who mock "ugly" children.

BTW
- those "judges,"
were they relatives of Dorian Grey?

[Josh]

I'm sorry, but I see this story differently than the people who have posted above. This looks like a gross abuse of power by the "big kids" against a powerless, defenseless little girl. You were trying your best to fit in, all you had was this stupid turtle, and they mocked you. On purpose. As I was reading, I thought that your blue ribbon would be for something like "most exotic pet" or "most unusual pet," either of which would have been fine and not humiliating. "Ugliest" is just plain mean.

Maybe I'll feel different after my glucose level increases, but I kind of doubt it.

[SarahS]

Josh - You're such an advocate for the downtrodden.

Very cute story, Elaine. Now I wanna know - what happened to Spot? When my grandmother's next door neighbor died at 88, she left behind her - are you ready for this? - 80 year old turtle. Her childless daughter, in her sixties already, had to take over its care and worried the turtle might outlive her!

We used nail polish to paint symbols on the box turtles in our yard so we could identify them summer after summer. One, Eddie Rickenbacker (sp?) returned every season.

[michele martinez]

GREAT story, Elaine. And it's obvious you've had that killer sense of humor since childhood.

Because of allergies, we're a little stymied on the dog thing, so we're going the terrarium and reptile route for now. We caught a large frog and put him in the terrarium. He doesn't do much except eat. On Tuesday he ate 24 crickets in five minutes, then hid in the mud and didn't come out for a whole day. Yesterday, we caught a very small frog and put it in there to be the big frog's companion. The small frog is now MIA, and we suspect he became a meal for the big frog.

Time to do more research on dogs.

[Maryann]

Great story! We never had pets as kids, unless you count guppies (who by the way eat their young...kind of like the frog Michele has). Had to be careful cleaning the bowl too, 'cuz guppies are almost invisible. I think my parents gave them away, but I'm not THAT sure. I AM sure we never took them to a pet show. Spot was a lucky turtle to have you in his corner :o)
PS. Unexpected is what miracles are all about. I'm a dedicated believer in that. :o)

[ramona]

That is a funny/sad story. That you would recognize the big kids weren't laughing with you--you were some perceptive little girl. On the up side, you showed your mettle, he performed on demand, and now you have a story. Sometimes pain makes us grow.

What struck me about this story? Granted, those judges were jerks, but if that event happened at a camp today, to a less spunky kid, who'd have gone home and told mom and dad about it? Half the parents I know would have been outraged and unreasonably angry. They'd have called the camp and demanded such unfair competitions stop and the mean judges get fired and counseling sessions offered to help you get over the trauma and restore your self-esteem and so on. And you wouldn't have a story for us to enjoy, or your blue ribbon in the scrapbook, or your nice strong backbone to use when faced with a tough audience.

And Michele--just get the dog. I promise you won't regret it.

[Laura (in PA)]

Love the turtle story, although I'm a bleeding heart, so it makes me sad that the kids were so mean. But good for Elaine for standing up there anyway with her confused turtle, and good for the turtle for performing on cue!

I've always had dogs, but none of them would win any blue ribbons. Unless they had prizes for Best Barked Warning Of The Neighbor In His Own Driveway, or Fastest Pet To Find Best Chair In The House For Napping. These, they'd win hands down.

[beachfla]

Elaine, my daughter can relate to your story. Last year, she took her then only pets, two hermit crabs, Crabby and CJ, to the blessing of the animals service at our church. They were the only pets there without fur or feathers. I must say, however, it was a more positive experience than yours - no one made fun of her. This year I'm sure she will be taking her dog, Butter, to the service which bears some resemblance to a "Vicar of Dibley" episode...

[Pam aka SisterZip]

Our box turtle lived in our basement (it was actually more of a cellar in a 100 year old house), happily eating bugs, crickets, anything that would dare go down there. We learned two very valuable lessons from our turtle.

In the summer we would take him outside and put him in the basement window wells to get some sum & grass. One day he managed to climb out of the window well and took off. After 3 days of searching the neighborhood, we finally decided that he was gone. After 5 days, we got a phone call from a realtor two blocks from our house. He wanted to know if we were the family that had lost a turtle. We had painted our last name on his shell and we were the only ones in the neighborhood with that name. We learned just how long it takes a turtle to walk two blocks.

The other lesson we learned was mating rituals of box turtles. Our neighbor had a turtle also and brought it over for a playdate. It is very hard to explain to 5 year olds (my sister & our neighbor) exactly what the turtles were doing.

[Pam aka SisterZip]

Our box turtle lived in our basement (it was actually more of a cellar in a 100 year old house), happily eating bugs, crickets, anything that would dare go down there. We learned two very valuable lessons from our turtle.

In the summer we would take him outside and put him in the basement window wells to get some sum & grass. One day he managed to climb out of the window well and took off. After 3 days of searching the neighborhood, we finally decided that he was gone. After 5 days, we got a phone call from a realtor two blocks from our house. He wanted to know if we were the family that had lost a turtle. We had painted our last name on his shell and we were the only ones in the neighborhood with that name. We learned just how long it takes a turtle to walk two blocks.

The other lesson we learned was mating rituals of box turtles. Our neighbor had a turtle also and brought it over for a playdate. It is very hard to explain to 5 year olds (my sister & our neighbor) exactly what the turtles were doing.

[Elaine Viets]

Spot lived several years in the backyard and finally died of what I hope was old age. I had a big shoebox funeral for him, and buried him under the willow tree.

[Kathy Reschini Sweeney]

Wow, Elaine, this made me cry.

Not many kids would have the stones to stand up there like you did, especially to jags like those 'judges'.

I'm with Josh on this one.

Cruelty is never okay. Never.

I am NOT going to go on a rant here, but if we had more people willing to stand up and face bullies head on, rather than abusing what power they have, we'd all be better off.

Proud to know you.

[Mary]

Wonderful story! Brava for standing your ground, and he was a smart turtle to seek your protection. We had a box turtle one winter (he took off for greener pastures, or turtle party times, when spring came). Mom reported that during the day, he'd follow her from room to room as she cleaned, which must have frustrated him a bit, as he'd arrive just as she was finished and ready to move on, but I suppose it gave him exercise. He'd wait by the refrigerator for food, but if no one noticed, he'd find a bare toe to chomp, which usually got his attention.
A friend had pet iguanas, which in the '70's, before all the salmonella concerns, had the free range of the house and would startle first-time guests by jumping on their shoulders. They even apparently scared off burglars once. I use them in a story I often tell, especially to camp groups.
We had a cat also, who wandered in, decided to stay (Dad said "a cat owns you") and produced regular litters of kittens. I now know that my allergy to cats is off the scale; back then I just knew to always have a Kleenex handy. There is a new development, allergy-proof cats, which cost thousands of dollars, so not in my budget.

[Kerry, The Martial Tart]

I'm with Josh and Kathy on this one -- those kids were jerks and I like to think that, had I been an adult anywhere around at the time, I would've had some words to say to them. But Spot was clearly more than deserving of his Blue Ribbon, as was Elaine!

[Elaine Viets]

Mary, I love the idea of an iguana burglar alarm.

[Mary]

Thanks! I'm thinking an iguana leaping on your average burglar would do the job. My brother suggests a sign, "Firefighters, if you must enter the premises, watch out for the venomous snakes." I think that would work also.
Actually, because I like you so much, please feel free to use either idea in your books. ;-)

[William Simon]

Sounds to me like Elaine stood up, and stood tall, despite the Idiots.

[Wanda]

One of my best friends has kept turtles for 50 years. They are all given to him by friends who find the turtles, and the turtles bear the donor's name. Each one has a definite personality. It is hard to find a herpetoligist to diagnose turtle diseases. When they die, each turtle shell is kept on a his memory shelf, and will tell long stories about the deceased turtles. So, Elaine's pride in Spot is justified in my mind.