The turtle was a long, slow walk from the creek where the snapping turtles rule. Was it running away from home? Off to lay eggs? It seemed kind of small for that, but what do I know? Its shell was six inches long.
We have red-eared sliders in the creek, and they generally stay on one side of the cross-over walkway. The snapping turtles are big, reputed to be mean, and stay on the other side mostly.
On Thursday I told about ninety third-graders about Peanut, the turtle in Missouri that got stuck in a six-pack ring. You can look it up, but Peanut is the poster child for animals harmed by litter. Third-graders eat this stuff up, and remember it, too. I always have to explain that turtles cannot crawl out of their shell.
Among the things I learned is school kids freak out if I use a shiny wrapper from an Easter Reese's peanut butter cup as litter in my presentations, because they are so hyper-freaked about peanut allergies. So, I have to eat some different candy for wrapper litter. It's a bad job, but someone's got to do it.
And so, the snapping turtle was lucky not to be a peanut:
A peanut sat on the railroad track.
Its heart was all a-flutter.
Round the bend came Number Ten.
Choo-choo peanut butter.
Instead the snapper has a tale to tell the grandkids about the time a crazy lady scooped it up between two red buckets and took it back to the creek in her car. Turtles do not often ride in cars. Perhaps it will be a legendary cautionary tale about not running away from home.
Good news. The Geeks fixed my camera, and it is headed back to me. For phone photos, these aren't awful.
|Go West, young turtle.|
© 2013-2015 Nancy L. Ruder