He was a randy old guy--definitely a ladies man. Fidelity was not his thing. He was lusty and he didn’t need a little blue pill. Romeo earned his name. He was all attitude and he jousted with the other guys for dominance. We called him our Turbo Tortoise. The Energizer Bunny® had nothing on him. Romeo didn’t have the sense to come in out of the rain. We imagined him like a little Gene Kelly splashing in puddles and twirling an umbrella.

Romeo died last week and left a huge hole in our hearts. Reptiles don’t appeal to everyone. They are not warm and fuzzy, but they are fascinating creatures with their own unique personalities. Like all pets, they bring much joy to our lives. We form special bonds with our adopted animal friends. When they are gone, we grieve their loss.

We buried Romeo in the yard with rose petals and a clay butterfly that my mother donated “to keep him from being lonesome.” When I told another relative about Romeo’s passing, he joked, “Well, at least you didn’t need to buy a coffin. He already came with one.” I was not amused. But then, this guy goes out and shoots Bambi.

When I’m tempted to feel sorry for myself, I think of all the people who lost their four-legged family members in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. I recall the story of that young autistic boy whose only attachment was to his beloved tortoise. I was enraged when I heard that other children had brutally stabbed that child’s only friend.

At times like these, I remember that all things change and that pain is a part of life. I also remind myself about relativity and I send loving-kindness and compassion to all people who are suffering the loss of a pet, the loss of a child, spouse or other loved one.