“Occurrence at Rose Automotive parking lot”, or “How I rode around all day with a fifteen pound snapping turtle in the back of my car.”

 

 

20^th April 2015

On Monday’s it is not uncommon for my Dentist and I to have lunch together. Our favorite place to eat is “The Mexican Restaurant in Cowan”. I don’t know its real name, because it’s the only one in Cowan. Time permitting well team up, like in the comic books when The Fantastic Four teams up with The Prowler to solve crime. Today we’re engaged in just such activity. Our plan was to hit the Rose’s Automotive, dropping of my Dentists truck for routine maintenance and repair. Then we go and devour refried beans, rice, and grilled Jalapeno Peppers with blood-thirsty, reckless abandon. We can both eat our body weight in Fajitas and Chili Con Carne. It’s a mess, after were done there nothing but crumbs, empty cans of diet coke and fingernails littering the table. So I’m sitting in the parking lot waiting for my Dentist to arrive and out of the rear view mirror I see Rooster (Chris but everyone calls him Rooster, and you should too.) and some other guy, and their poking a hubcap with a big stick. Hmmm I’m thinking what are they doing? Then the Dentist arrives in his recently restored 1978 Toyota Pick-up truck.

            The 1978 Toyota Truck is a thing of sublime simplicity and beauty. By today’s megalithic standards this truck is not appealing to the great and many unwashed testosterone fueled masses. Who are forever reaching for the next biggest and greatest thing.  It’s little, a compact truck in a supersized world, but that truck has been running and hauling for 30 plus years, and I sincerely doubt that many of the new Dodge Rams or Ford F650’s will be functioning so flawlessly 30 years from now. My Dentist procured this truck as payment in lieu of cash for fillings and crowns. At first I was skeptical, I mean this truck was rough looking the bed was rusted out and the gas gauge was completely nonfunctional. However, I must say the truck is no nonsense, functional fun. It gets like 50 miles to the gallon, and after my Dentist put in a CD player we were cruising down the road listening to Hank Williams. I was hooked. Next thing you know, about five months later he shows up and it’s got a brand new paint job with red pin stripes down the side. The truck bed has been lovingly repaired. Same deal, service for service. It’s the barter economy at its finest. My Dentist then goes in to talk to Mr. Rose, and my attention returns to Rooster in the parking lot. Suddenly, I realize what prize they have found in the parking lot.

            It’s not a hubcap it’s a turtle, a Snapping Turtle (Chelydra serpentina ) to be exact. One of the most feared reptiles in the area. I get out of the car, and run over Holy Cow look at that thing it’s huge. It’s really mad too. The Snapper is as big as a hubcap and it’s mad, the neck reaches out snaps at air and retracts back into its shell. He’s a big one for sure. One of the biggest I’ve seen this close. Rooster says, “We found him out in the road, and got him over here so he wouldn’t get run over.” Looking closely, it appears he’s had a hard life. He’s been blinded in one eye and his right forepaw looks like it’s been chewed upon. Snappers can’t fully retract into their shell the way other turtles can. Snapping Turtles heads and necks are much too big for that. Thus, they have developed a ferocious pair of jaws that can sever fingers. In addition to their fearsome jaws do not underestimate their claws. They hurt too. The Snapping Turtle is truly a force to be reckoned with. It’s a graceful swimmer that skillfully burrows into muddy waters where it awaits its next meal. On land its tank-like shell and surly demeanor frighten off all but the most determined predators. There’s not many in the wildlife community that will prey upon the adult Snapping Turtle. However, the eggs are subject to predation by snakes, birds, and other animals. Newborns are frequently included in the diet of Blue Herons, other birds, and large fish. This coupled with low birth rates, people’s fear of them, and loss of habitat will make Creatures of this size much rarer. In the wild their average life span is around 12 years, it’s suggested that captive specimens may live 100 years or more. Of the Snapping Turtle in general, it’s best to just steer clear, and Lord help you if your wadding around in a pond and a Snapping Turtle get a hold of you. I hope your Tetanus and health insurance are up to date, you will need both.

            “Hey Rooster, you got a box?” I say with enthusiasm. “Sure, and some welding gloves. You want that thing?” he asks. “I’ll put it in my Dentists pond.” I reply, and we all laugh and cackle at the notion that will soon be reality. Dad has always told me to never pick up a Snapping Turtle. Which on the surface makes complete sense, however I plan to take this prehistoric beast and turn him loose to spend his days in a nice muddy pond. His claws are about an inch long and hooked for maximum traction in your tender flesh. I position myself directly behind the creature. He’s hissing at everything that moves. Picking up such a large and cumbersome creature is tricky business. Picking them up by the tail is a great way to injury their spinal column and sliding them around with a stick will damage the underside of the shell. This could leave the Snapping Turtle open to grievous infections. I grasp his shell firmly with both hands and heave him into the air stumbling forward towards a wide-eyed Rooster. The creature is mad as a hornet his head pops out hissing, snapping, and swings around trying to get at me. His back feet are clawing into my arm. Luckily, I got on the long sleeves today. I gingerly place him in the cardboard box and get him into the car. My Dentist comes out with Mr. Rose and we’re standing around laughing. “What’s in the box Shores?” I show him, “Holy Shit! That’s a big one.” he exclaims. “Hey can we keep him in your pond? He’s only got one eye. He won’t be no trouble.” I say using my most Southern and imploring accent. “Sure.” Says my Dentist. We stand around wondering how he got all the way into this parking lot. These turtles are known to cover great distances in search of mates and suitable habitat. The closest water is about a quarter mile away. In turtle distance, that is many weary miles. We take our leave of Rose’s Automotive and begin our trip back to Cowan. We carry on in the usual fashion. We name the turtle Winston, and “All Shall Fear His Slow Moving Wrath”. For Winston’s anger is mighty. Imagine for a moment if you were on your way to the grocery store. You’ve already had a bad day. Someone has poked out your eyeball with a stick, and your ankles broke. All you want to do is go to the grocery store, and maybe the police station to file assault charges. Your almost there, then two guys drag you out of the street and start poking you with a stick. Then another guy puts you in a box and sets you in the back of his car. You’d be hissing and snapping too. I just hope Winston likes the pond. We pull into “The Mexican Restaurant” leaving Winston in the car to collect his thoughts and calm down a little. He’s had a tough day.

            We get our table and order our food. My Dentist gets his usual. I decide to try the Chicken Provolone menu #27. Do not order #27. It’s not great, the worst actually, but it was completely edible, so I ate it all the while talking about the new turtle and how awesome he is. During lunch we always get grilled Jalapeno Peppers. It used to be my thing to just pick them up and eat them whole, seeds and all. Not so much anymore. They BURN, they burn so bad. Now I deseed them, which helps tremendously. Anxious to take care of our new and bestest friend we depart “The Mexican Restaurant”, and make for the Pond. At this time, Winston decides this box isn’t big enough so with his mighty snapping turtle strength and pure hate he flips the box over and crawls out, it’s quite a racket. Arriving at the pond I quickly don protective gloves and steel myself for my next grappling session with Winston. These gloves are much thinner than the welding gloves I had earlier. Greater care will be required. Both hands I reach in and grab Winston, hefting him out. His head is popping and snapping in ferocious turtle fashion. Menacingly, I advance on my Dentist; all the while he’s snapping photos, too fun. We walk him out to the pond, thinking that we’ll spray paint his shell so we know it’s our turtle, but then we realize he’s only got one eye, and a busted fore paw. Scratch that idea. I set him down, near the water. He just sits there. We watch as Winston takes in his new surroundings. Slowly he moves towards the pond, now faster he’s making for it. I was worried that his injury would slow him down, but it’s really hard to notice, splash he’s in and gracefully he swims into the murky depths.