Today I learned that big old pond turtles smell really bad and it is harder to get one out of the cubby behind the last seat of my Odyssey than it is to put one in there.
We went back to our new pond three hours later to check up on the turtle because, when I found it, it seemed dazed, just sitting in the middle of the lane on a paved country road between wet newly plowed fields of fluffy, soggy, impassable ridges. After I stopped to be sure it wasn't a snapper and too dangerous for an intervention, it didn't even try to retreat in to it's shell. It did put up a quick show snapping at me and puffing to scare me as I woman handled the animal in to my car (and held onto the plastic trim with turtle claws to stay in).
To my delight, Bond spotted a path of smashed down grass that eventually led to the shore.
Add these turtle tracks to my list of graffiti.
Add these turtle tracks to my list of graffiti.
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