I just remembered that once when driving to the cottage I saw a big turtle in the middle of the road. I swerved and missed it. About 10 to 15 seconds later screeched to halt and went back to help it off the road.
Traffic was very light and I only saw two other cars while on my way back to the turtle. I quickly ran up to it, keeping an eye out for more vehicles, and made to pick it up. It was a big snapping turtle. Someone had clearly hit it. It was alive (I had seen it's head come up in the rearview mirror... it's what spurred me to go back for it) but it's shell had a crack just behind it's head. It didn't look too bad.
Of course, as I started to reach for the turtle, the little bugger lunged (if I can use the verb lunge in conjuntion with describing a turtle's movement) to bite me. Here I am in the middle of the road, saving her stupid ass and she want's to bite me. How's that for gratitude?
In the end, I picked it up and put down on the side closest to water (a nearby lake). I have no idea if that was the direction it wanted to go. I did what I could for it. It thanked me with a flash of beak and nasty hiss.
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"My hands are on fire. Hands are on fire. Ain't got no more time for all you charlatans and liars."
- Old Man Luedecke
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