911 turtle rescue

Last night was the 2nd time in 3 years that I have rescued a turtle from imminent death on a busy roadway. It's a little weird because I don't stop for dogs or cats or any other creature on roadways, but there is something so pathetically...oh, I don't know...slow about turtles that I can't help but feel sorry for them plodding along on the concrete.

I was turning into my MIL's neighborhood after picking up G's birthday present and a Christmas present for the kids (bought them second-hand....a train table & numerous tracks/trains for G and a wooden jungle house). G won't give a darn if he sees the train setup, but N would remember seeing the jungle house for Christmas, so I had to stow it someplace other than our basement.

ANYWAY, as I was turning left into the subdivision, I saw a car stopped on Shelbyville Road, even though its light was green. As I got closer, I saw that someone was getting out to help this big turtle who was crossing the road at the most inopportune moment (really, any moment on Shelbyville Road is inopportune).

I puttered happily along to the house, glad that someone was taking pity on this poor creature and saving it. Fast forward 20 minutes or so later, I am getting ready to pull out of my MIL's neighborhood, when I see another car stopped on Shelbyville Road and the same dumb turtle trying to dodge traffic.

WHAT THE FUCK??? Why didn't the people get it 20 minutes ago?

So I pull over and don my latex gloves, which I keep in a little plastic bag filled with sanitizers, bandaids, ointments. I figure if I ever have to deal with another kid's blood at a sporting event or playdate, I'd rather have the gloves. I can handle my own kids' runny, gooey fluids, but definitely not some other kid's.

As I got closer to the turtle, I realized this wasn't a nice, harmless Franklin turtle. This was a big, long-necked, snapper. His shell was at least 12 inches long, not counting his big honking neck and tail in the back. When I made a move toward it, it lurched at me. No wonder the people in the first car didn't move him.

Time for plan #2. There was no way in fuck I was gonna try to actually pick this dude up with my hands. I value my appendages.

Fortunately, the trains and tracks were in a big plastic bin in the back of the van. I dumped everything out of it and found a snow scrapper with a long handle. Back to the turtle. Basically, I just stuck the container directly in front of him, took the end of the scrapper and lifted his big turtle butt into the bin. I could see his shell had already been knicked by tires.

When N and I saved a little turtle a couple years back on Blankenbaker Parkway, we had called the zoo about what to do with it. They said to return it to a safe spot near where we had found it, so I figured I would do the same thing with meanie, but as far away as possible from the main road.

My MIL's neighborhood has a huge wooded area and pond, so I dumped him there and hoped he wouldn't get hit by some teenager in the subdivision coming home later in the night.

When I returned home, I poured bleach into the plastic bin, threw the latex gloves away, and sprayed Lysol all over the ice scrapper. And then I worried a little bit whether the turtle air in the car could possibly harm the fetus. I decided the chances of him being smooshed again were far higher than me contracting some weird turtle flu. I also worried whether he might try to eat any duck eggs near the banks of the pond (I don't know what snapping turtles eat), but then decided to eat a bowl of ice cream and get over it.

And so this ends the tale of how, if I can borrow from my friend's recent FB status update, the donning of latex gloves was actually followed by something good. (THANKS, K!)