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Late Night Confession: ASPCA Hates Me

Posted by Ally Tucker on January 10, 2012 at 8:35 PM



Oh U(r)sher, no need to be shy or pensive. We've been here before. Next to my diary (oh wait, that's Kristen), you are the one who knows the most about me. We've been through a lot, Ush. Maybe not as much as you and Chili, but in lieu of how things turned out between the two of you-- I'd like to think you feel closer to me than her.


Anyway, it's been a while but I think  the time has come for another late night confession. I've got to be honest Ush, I'm more nervous about this confession than any before. I fear that you will pass judgment on me as a human being. With that said, if I can't tell you, than who can I tell?


Before anyone passes judgment, in my defense, I was only about 3 years old. Can any of us be held responsible for the things we did at the age of 3? If that were the case, I think it's fair to say we could all have reason to hate Suri Cruise for life for some of the ridiculous outfits she had worn by the age of 3. 



I digress. Before I go any further, let me just say this now: Sarah MacLachlan, I am so, so, so sorry....


I'm not sure exactly where the appropriate place to start this confession is, but I feel the need to provide an ounce of background information on my family's history with pets. Actually, I really just need to tell you about one particular event in our family's history of pets. Before I confess, let me confess something about my older sister Colleen. When she was about 3 years old (see a pattern here?), she and my parents found two box turtles somewhere in the mystic wild (probably a pond, let's be honest). For reasons I'm unsure of, they decided that keeping these turtles as pets would be a good idea. 


Some time shortly after the adoption of the two turtles into the family, my sister began a secret nightly routine that no one (my parents, who else does a 3 year old know?) knew about but her. Every night before going to bed, she would kiss the turtles goodnight. Box turtles are not known for being good kissers, but apparently they are known for carrying Salmonella. 


Poor little Colleen nearly died she became so sick (glad you made it sis!) from the Salmonella. And as an apparent lasting side effect from the illness, she has an aversion to milk. Fun fact! You're welcome, readers. 


Anyway, fast forward 3 years to my confession. 


When I was 3 years old, I was an accomplice pretty damn active participant in a serious crime against animals. I'm not proud. Oh no, I am not proud. But I like to be truthful with Usher and my readers. 


When I was 3 and my sister was probably 5 1/2, my parents decided it was time to try another pet after the whole turtle fiasco. They bought us two gerbils. 



Those gerbils look innocent and sweet, happy to be snuggling together. Our 2 gerbils must have tired of the snuggling because within a few short weeks, they were expecting!


My memory is vague, so I don't remember how long it was before our 2 gerbils brought Ivy Blue and the rest of the gerbil brood into the world, but soon enough--they had arrived!


Baby gerbils are cute. Baby gerbils are fragile. I repeat, baby gerbils are fragile. 




My parents, clearly remembering my sister's run in with the turtles, made it very clear to both of us that we were NOT TO TOUCH THE GERBILS! This message was sent very directly and very clearly to the both of us. We were not allowed to even open the cage. My parents were as serious about this rule as they could be. They explained to us that the gerbils were too fragile for us to play with until they grew older and stronger. We understood. 


But you know what else we understood? That for approximately 10 minutes every morning, my Mom was busy in the kitchen making us breakfast. We had exactly 10 minutes to sneak around in the living room and play with the baby gerbils without her really noticing. So what did we do? We played with the baby gerbils for 10 minutes in the morning, doing our best to convince my Mom that she had no reason to look in the living room to monitor us. I honestly don't know how we got away with it. 


One morning...shit got real. 


Did I mention that I'm really, really sorry, Sarah MacLachlan?


Honest to goodness, my sister and I were just trying to play with the baby gerbils. They were so stinking cute after all. And the fact that we were banned from playing with them only made us want to do it that much more! We were 3 and 5! We didn't know. We didn't know!!!


Baby gerbils are fragile. Very, very fragile. 



One of us picked one up by the middle and...well... let's just say we accidentally squeezed a little too hard. It was a tragic accident. I'm not sure that we were aware of what we had done though. We continued to play with the other gerbils, assuming that one was just lethargic. 


My memory is a little vague but we were either trying to play catch with one or...well hell, I don't know why else we would have been throwing gerbils. Anyway, we missed the target on one and it flew over onto the corner of the rocking chair bottom. Ivy Blue, as I like to think she was named, was split down the middle. 


Sometime minutes before the "Gerbil catch incident of '89," I had thought it would be a funny trick to put one of the gerbils in my Dad's shoe. How I didn't realize that this would end badly for the gerbil, and nauseating for my Dad, I will never know. I was 3! 


Anyway, after the gerbil hit the rocking chair...reality began to set in and we realized that we had accidentally and tragically killed one of our baby gerbils. We were a mixture of sad and embarrassed. We weren't sure what to do and we certainly did not want to get caught. 


Obviously it didn't take my parents very long to realize that some of the baby gerbils were missing from the cage. And when my Dad stepped on the one in his penny loafers (makes for a better story, yeah?), a moment I can only imagine he has tried to erase from his memory (sorry Dad!), the true damage had come to light. 


I cannot stress to you enough how innocent in nature the whole morning was. Regardless of intent, we Jeffrey Dahmer-ed a handful of baby gerbils.  


I am not sure I will ever be able to make amends for that tragic day, but I had to get it off my chest. RIP baby gerbils. Someday I will dedicate a book to you. No, seriously...I will. 


And again, Sarah MacClachlan...please believe me when I say that I am sorry. The experience from all those years ago certainly doesn't make your commercial any easier to stomach...


(Fair warning...)


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** TUCKER'S TALES Spoiler Alert ....  Our good friend Richmond has started a project where he produces podcasts. The Tucker's Tales duo of Kristen & Ally will be his first production. We will be recording a podcast in which we discuss all kinds of things (Tucker's Tales, our recent hiring on the KSR College staff, etc). We are recording this weekend and the podcast should be available soon after on Tucker's Tales for you to check it out. If it's any good, maybe we will do it on a regular basis. If it's terrible....we'll throw it in the pile of mistakes along with Celebrity Survivor. 




Categories: Ally's Blog Entries, True Life/Late Night Confessions

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1 Comment

Reply McLeod
12:26 PM on January 15, 2012 
I feel like a terrible person for laughing hysterically about the tragic demise of your baby gerbils.