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I found my pet rock about a decade or so ago. The lil guy was in my backyard, looking frightened and out of place. At first, I was unsure of how to approach him- he was about the shape of an alligator's head and longer than the size of my hand (I was about 12-13 at the time).
At first, I observed him from across the yard, wondering if he was feral. My cats kept their distance from him, which lead me to believe this. The longer I stared at him, the lonelier he looked, and finally, I approached him, taking my time to prove that I was harmless to him. When I touched him, his coldness bit into me, and I nearly dropped him out of shock, but I held him tight and brought him inside to warm him up.
It took some time, but the frightened rock soon warmed up to me, and we became good friends. He liked to cuddle next to me when I slept to keep warm, and watch television with me. As I grew older, he mostly remained on my dresser, watching me type away on my computer, but he didn't mind. He was already so old, and he didn't care for moving around too much. By the time I was going to move away from home, he had become so fragile that I was worried that the move might shock him too much. It was a difficult decision, but I decided to leave him at my parents' house.
I miss him so much now...
