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May. 26th, 2007 10:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pixel39Thursday evening Jeff and I were out running errands and such, and we had cause to be driving through what is more-or-less light industrial park combined with some undeveloped wild areas. Wooded bits, grassy bits, catch ponds and marshy bits and the occasional lake.
And lo, there was a fairly large turtle in the road. This is not really a surprising sort of thing--it's spring, after all, and turtles, especially when it's spring and egg-laying time, do sometimes have occasion to cross a road during their travels.
So I told Jeff to stop, and I hopped out, with the intention to pick it up and move it to safety. As I got closer I was able to see it better--when I'm not wearing my glasses I am still slightly nearsighted--and I started getting suspicious.
Hmmmm. Kind of a muddy color. Long tail, a little ridged, with sawtoothy protrusions along the upper ridge. Can't pull its head and legs inside the shell very well. Largish claws. Largish turtle--the shell was about a foot long or maybe a little larger. Hooked upper jaw. Beady little eyes glaring at me. Yes, it was glaring at me. Trust me on this.
So I says to myself, "Self," I says, says I "I know what this is. This is Chelydra serpentina (or, for you non-biologists, the snapping turtle). And I'm all for rescuing wildlife* but snapping turtles are remarkably canktankerous, not to mention ungrateful, reptiles, and there is NO WAY I am getting any closer to that beastie without heavy gloves and a broomstick in my hands."
I walk back to the truck, and Jeff is just getting out. "That's a snapping turtle. I ain't touching it." We walk back to the turtle, and confer about how much it's worth to try moving it. Jeff opines that he doesn't have heavy enough gloves. I swing my foot a bit closer, and that head snaps out a bit after me. "Nope. No way, no how." We walk back to the truck.
So about then, a Jeep with a youngish-looking couple drives around the truck (which is in the middle of the road) and stops about fifty feet ahead of where the turtle is. And I guess they watched us confer and then leave, because as we were driving off I saw them walking back towards the turtle.
And I wished them luck.
*When I worked out in Chaska by Lake Hazeltine I carred a fireplace shovel in my truck to help the sliders get up the curbs.
And lo, there was a fairly large turtle in the road. This is not really a surprising sort of thing--it's spring, after all, and turtles, especially when it's spring and egg-laying time, do sometimes have occasion to cross a road during their travels.
So I told Jeff to stop, and I hopped out, with the intention to pick it up and move it to safety. As I got closer I was able to see it better--when I'm not wearing my glasses I am still slightly nearsighted--and I started getting suspicious.
Hmmmm. Kind of a muddy color. Long tail, a little ridged, with sawtoothy protrusions along the upper ridge. Can't pull its head and legs inside the shell very well. Largish claws. Largish turtle--the shell was about a foot long or maybe a little larger. Hooked upper jaw. Beady little eyes glaring at me. Yes, it was glaring at me. Trust me on this.
So I says to myself, "Self," I says, says I "I know what this is. This is Chelydra serpentina (or, for you non-biologists, the snapping turtle). And I'm all for rescuing wildlife* but snapping turtles are remarkably canktankerous, not to mention ungrateful, reptiles, and there is NO WAY I am getting any closer to that beastie without heavy gloves and a broomstick in my hands."
I walk back to the truck, and Jeff is just getting out. "That's a snapping turtle. I ain't touching it." We walk back to the turtle, and confer about how much it's worth to try moving it. Jeff opines that he doesn't have heavy enough gloves. I swing my foot a bit closer, and that head snaps out a bit after me. "Nope. No way, no how." We walk back to the truck.
So about then, a Jeep with a youngish-looking couple drives around the truck (which is in the middle of the road) and stops about fifty feet ahead of where the turtle is. And I guess they watched us confer and then leave, because as we were driving off I saw them walking back towards the turtle.
And I wished them luck.
*When I worked out in Chaska by Lake Hazeltine I carred a fireplace shovel in my truck to help the sliders get up the curbs.
