26 Years of Quiet Love: Farewell to My Beloved Baby

Forever my Big Baby

Introduction: The Gentle Shadow

On April 19, 2000, a tiny terrapin quietly walked into my life and changed it forever.

I bought her from a little neighborhood shop at my local market—the kind of place that sold ornamental fish, pet food, and basic aquarium supplies. Back then, I actually brought home two or three baby terrapins. Being so young and not knowing much about pet care, the others sadly didn't survive very long. I still remember the tears I cried back then, gently burying one in a small hole I dug downstairs at our HDB block. Completely unaware at the time that digging there wasn't permitted! But through it all, one strong, resilient little soul stayed with me: my Big Baby.

In those early days, we really had no idea how to properly raise a terrapin. We simply learned as we went. I started with a small, basic tank, changing her water every single day and feeding her a mix of vegetables and standard turtle pellets. As the years passed and she grew from a tiny, adorable hatchling into a large, impressive terrapin, we expanded her menu. We tried offering her raw prawns one day, and she absolutely loved them. It quickly became her favorite treat. Truth be told, I never even knew for sure whether she was a boy or a girl, but it didn't matter. She was simply my precious baby.

For a long time, life moved fast around her. I was constantly busy; first with school, then stepping into work, and spending time out with friends. During those busy years, my parents were the unsung heroes who lovingly helped look after Big Baby, making sure she was always well-fed, comfortable, and cared for. She was a constant, peaceful anchor in our home, just living her quiet life, bringing a gentle, understated joy to our household every single day.

Looking back now, I realize how incredible it was to have her by our side for a full 26 years. From a tiny creature resting in the palm of my hand to the big, beloved baby who filled our hearts, her quiet presence was a true blessing.

Chapter 1: A Lifetime of Quiet Moments

As Big Baby grew larger, we began letting her out of her tank to freely explore and crawl around the house. That was when her real personality started to shine, bringing so much life and laughter into our home.

She was a master at hiding. Because she loved cool, shady spots, we often found ourselves playing an unintended game of hide-and-seek, searching all over the house only to find her wedged comfortably underneath the sofa or beneath the fridge. She was also hilariously stubborn about her walking paths; she would head straight toward a tangle of electrical wires, knowing full well she’d get stuck, just waiting for us to pick her up and clear the way for her.

Having a full-grown terrapin roaming the living room came with its own unique hazards! If you weren't paying attention, she would accidentally ram right into your feet with her hard, heavy shell. It actually hurt quite a bit, something my parents experienced far more often than I did! And when she was hungry during feeding times, that tiny mouth was no joke. She bit us a few times, leaving painful little nips that even drew a bit of blood.

Despite her mischievous side, she was deeply adored. During Chinese New Year, when relatives came over to visit, she was always the main star. My dad would proudly bring her out to entertain everyone, and she would happily crawl around the living room floor, looking up at our guests with her signature cute, blur expression.

She had a sweet habit of wandering into our bedrooms too. Whenever I was home, my parents would gently place her in my room so she could keep me company. Having her quietly explore nearby while I went about my day made the room feel complete.

Chapter 2: The Final Journey

It all began in mid-February 2026, when Big Baby suddenly stopped eating. At first, we hoped it was nothing serious, perhaps just a natural period of rest or a shift into hibernation mode. But as weeks turned into months, her refusal to take food or water persisted for five agonizing months. No matter how hard we tried to feed her, she simply wouldn't eat and looking tired too, leaving us feeling completely helpless.

Desperate for answers, I brought her to a veterinarian near my parents' place in July. The vet diagnosed her with a respiratory infection and severe dehydration. From that day on, caring for her became my singular priority. For a full week, I took half-day leaves from work every single day just to stay by her side and nurse her. Even after transferring her back to my parents' care, I spent my lunch breaks making quick trips home just to check on her, spend a few precious moments by her side, and share a quick meal with my parents. I was so consumed with worry, constantly terrified of what might happen.

Despite every sacrifice, her fight came to an end on the evening of August 18, 2026. Her heartbeat stopped before I reached my parents' home after work. The pain was immediate and overwhelming. I wept continuously all the way to the animal hospital, holding her close to me. Because reptiles require a 24-hour observation period before official pronouncement of death, the vet asked us to wait, even though tests confirmed her heart had already gone still and there was no longer any hope. I'm still hoping for miracle honestly.

My heart was completely shattered. In the days that followed, I couldn't bring myself to go to work. I spent the week crying constantly, completely consumed by grief. The only time I forced myself to leave the house was for my mum's birthday celebration at her day care centre, masking my pain for a few hours before returning home to cry through the rest of the week. By Saturday night, I finally stepped out briefly, just trying to find a momentary reprieve from the relentless ache in my chest. And now I'm back to work though still not ready.

Chapter 3: Returning to the Sea

When the painful arrangements needed to be made, my husband lovingly stepped in to help. He suggested to take up a communal cremation so she would be surrounded by companions and wouldn't have to be alone. He gently encouraged me not to hold onto her ashes, but to let her be released into a better place, free from all suffering.

On August 21, 2026, around 1:00 PM, she was cremated. Before the procedure, the pet cremation staff sent final photos of her to my husband. Knowing how fragile my heart was, he held onto them until he came home, only showing me when I asked to see them. Naturally, another wave of tears fell as I looked at her image, knowing her physical presence was truly leaving this world.

Her sea scattering is arranged for September 15, 2026, at Changi Jetty, between 12:00 PM and 3:00 PM.

With that final release, she will be fully free, no longer sick or tired, but swimming peacefully in the vast ocean alongside other turtle friends. Even though she is physically gone from my daily life, her 26 years of quiet companionship will remain in my heart forever. She will always be my missing piece.

Conclusion: Forever in My Heart

Twenty-six years wasn't long enough, but I am endlessly grateful for every single year, month, and day she spent with us. She grew up alongside our family, watched our family change, and filled our home with a unique, gentle warmth that can never be replaced.

Thank you, my sweet Big Baby, for the 26 years of quiet love, cute memories, and endless joy. You were so deeply loved by all of us at home, and you will be missed every single second until we meet again. Rest well, my precious. You will always be my baby.

And I will never ever get a pet again in this lifetime. The pain is just as bad as losing a human.