By The Time He Got To The Start Of The Oregon Trail, He Would Have Been Shell And Bones

On the way to town Thursday, I saw a big turtle at the end of the driveway, on the grass where I park the trash dumpster, which I'd be hauling up there when I returned with my 44 oz Diet Coke. Dumpster-pullin' is thirsty work.

It wasn't a turtle turtle, a web-footed swimmer. It was a plodding terrapin, made for land. But we call them turtles around here. I thought about stopping for a picture, because while we see them quite often every day, crossing the roads, we don't see them this big. I didn't want to exert myself right then. I had several stops to make. No need to get all sweaty before you even get out in public.

Did I mention that this turtle was BIG? When I came home, I could see that he was no longer in the short grass where the dumpster would soon sit, but easing himself through the tall grass that Farmer H had just mowed, but was already sprouting up again. I could see the top of his shell, and his long neck, moving through the grass like a Conestoga wagon across the prairie.

I parked at the end of the driveway, and started walking through the yard toward the house, planning to get a picture of that turtle on my way to grab the dumpster. I often do it backwards like this now, so when I get back to T-Hoe, I can drive to the garage and unload my stuff. It seems like a shorter process than unloading first, and then taking the dumpster up.

Anyhoo...Jack and Juno and Copper Jack heard me. They came running from over by the BARn. Which meant that just as I was focusing in, Turtle puled his head back inside his back-house. It's not like the dogs showed interest. They ran up to sniff that turtle and alert him to danger, then took off to snarl and play-fight.

I think Turtle was too big for them to get their muzzle around. I'm sure Jack, with his tiny mouth, would have starved to death if he only had Turtle to eat, and not delicious cat kibble handed out to him each time I leave or return to the Mansion.

I might have mentioned this before, and if I did, I think I misinformed you. Farmer H found out an interesting fact about turtles at the bird sanctuary last week. A turtle lives on a section of land about the size of a football field. If you think you're doing a good deed by rescuing them from the road, and driving them somewhere else to let go, or keep in your back yard for a pet...you're sentencing that turtle to death!!! They only know where to find food in their football-field-size home, and they will slowly starve to death if transplanted. Even if food is there, they won't have sense to eat enough to live.

So says Farmer H, anyway, quoting a worker at the bird sanctuary, who must surely be an expert on turtles.

This one looks pretty healthy, even though that may be an old scar from dog teeth before he got too big to bite. I left him right there. I'm not gonna be the one to starve a turtle to death. No siree, Bob!