Meet Cranky, the real turtle behind the game.
A fence rescue, a very important pear, and the little three-legged turtle who became part of our family.
Cranky found us by getting stuck under a fence.
It wasn’t the most dignified entrance. But for a little turtle who would become such a big part of our family, it was a pretty memorable one.
I’ve already shared how Cranky inspired the game. This time, I want to introduce you to the real guy: an Eastern box turtle with three legs, a surprising amount of personality, and some very strong feelings about pears.
How Cranky found us
We were living in Fredericksburg, Virginia, by the Civil War battlefield area at Howson’s Hill. We put vegetables and other food out for the wildlife, something we’d also done back in Texas.
One day, there was a turtle stuck under our wooden picket fence, trying to come into the backyard. Apparently, he’d heard about the food. Or at least found his way toward it.
We freed him, and the kids bonded with him immediately.
That was Cranky’s introduction to our family. A rescue from a fence, followed by two kids who were very happy to meet him.
He had exactly three legs. His front-right leg was missing, and I don’t know how he lost it. By the time we met him, that was already part of his story.
Why he was different
We’ve had a lot of animals over the years: toads, frogs, geckos, lizards, anoles, snakes, and a dog. So it takes something to stand out in that crowd.
Cranky immediately felt like part of the family.
I’d describe him as about the sweetest turtle ever, which probably sounds like a funny thing to say about someone named Cranky. But he was unusually personable for a turtle. He felt present. He was gentle with our kids, and I never knew him to nip, bite, or hurt them.
We have hours of videos of the kids playing with him, caring for him, and just engaging with him. Those ordinary moments are a big part of what I remember: the kids and their turtle, enjoying each other’s company.
And then there are the photos. One has a small toad sitting on his shell. Apparently, being a family turtle also came with occasional passenger service. 😄
The pear story
My daughter remembers Cranky’s first pear.
He was hissing when she offered it, putting the pear where he could take a bite. He crunched down, discovered he liked it, and after that he loved pears.
Her description of the moment is better than anything I could come up with:
“He was cranky until he ate the pear. And then he kept being cranky after he ate the pear.”
So the pear was a success. The personality remained intact.
She remembers him taking his time eating because he really liked it. When asked how she felt watching him, she said:
“I was happy.”
A kid, a turtle, and a pear. That was enough.
A turtle at the right time
There’s a reason those small moments mattered so much to us.
After the disruption of COVID and work changes, we moved from Texas to Virginia in January 2023. First Fairfax, then Fredericksburg. The kids had been through a lot of change, and more moves than I ever wanted for them.
Cranky became a gentle, grounding presence during that stretch. Caring for him and spending time with him gave the kids something familiar and happy in the middle of all the disruption.
He was a little turtle who needed care, accepted their attention, and became deeply loved. For our family, that was a lot.
The goodbye
Eventually, we knew we were moving back to Texas.
We believed the much hotter climate wouldn’t be right for Cranky, and we made the difficult decision to leave him in Virginia. That was hard for the kids. It was hard for my wife and me, too.
Before we left Fredericksburg, we built him a protected nest on a hill below a tree, choosing the spot to reduce the risk of flooding. We put his favorite toys inside, built a roof over it, and covered it with dirt. We made an entrance sized for Cranky, then covered the shelter with leaves to help conceal it and protect it for winter.
We were trying to leave him with a sheltered place and the things he loved.
That included three Harry & David pears, fully sliced.
By then, we knew what pears meant to Cranky. And after hearing my daughter tell the story of that first bite, you know why that detail stays with us, too.
We all gave him a lot of love and said our goodbyes. Then we drove away from that home in Fredericksburg for the final time.
Cranky was alive when we left him in Virginia. I don’t know what happened to him afterward. I can tell you what we did and how much we loved him, but that’s where my firsthand story ends.
Why he lives on in Cranky’s Game
Later, my daughter wanted a game where she could care for Cranky again. My son missed him, too. That wish became the beginning of Cranky’s Game.
The earlier article tells more of that story. But when I’m building the game, this is the turtle I’m thinking about: the one we freed from the fence, the one who was so gentle with our kids, and the one who could enjoy a pear without letting it interfere with being Cranky.
He became part of our family at a time when we needed him. The game is one way we carry that love forward.
That’s the real Cranky. Three legs, a toad passenger, and a very well-earned place in our family’s story. 🐢