Middle-aged Mutant Turtle Hero

Why did the turtle cross the road? I don't know – maybe because her GPS is broken? Or maybe because she's laying eggs? Who knows with turtles. Their brains are the size of lima beans.

Seems like everyone has a saving-a-turtle story lately. Just last Thursday my friend Leah came into work and announced she had picked a painted turtle off the road and deposited it safely on the side. "As soon as I picked it up, it peed all over me," she said. "Just let go. Shusssssssssshhhhhhh." She made the peed-all-over hand motions because even though Leah isn't Italian she has Italian hands that wave for dramatic effect. All I could think of, as she was waving her hands around, was microscopic drops of turtle piss flying into everyone's coffee cups.

The very next morning I looked out the window and saw a painted turtle in the middle of our road. Dave was already gone to work and I was still in my pajamas. "Ah, man?" I thought. "Ya mean I gotta go outside and rescue that stupid turtle?" Obviously there was no one else in the house willing to do it. I put on my flip-flops and a hoodie – my turtle rescuing superhero outfit – and marched outside to do the dirty deed.

Now,  I may not be a girly-girl in most respects but there's one thing I draw the line at and that's touching ooky things. Ooky includes bugs, spiders, fish, worms, snakes, frogs, toads, leeches and turtles. And other stuff, probably; I may not be able to list all ooky things but I know ooky when I see it. Cat barf? Ooky. That video of popping the biggest zit in the world? OOKY. Did you SEE that video? OMG. I mean, there's nothing I love better than popping a big zit, but this one was like a tube of toothpaste, or squeeze mayonnaise. Oh yeah, totally like squeezable mayonnaise. Here's the link but I warn you, it's the most disgusting ooky thing you will ever see. CLICK WITH CAUTION!

So where was I? Oh yes, flapping outside to rescue the stupid turtle in the middle of our road. On the way past the garage I grabbed the old broom pole we keep by the door to prop it open. I figured I would use it to prod the house-on-claws to its way back to the river, you know, without actually touching it. In fact, I thought a gentle nudge would do the trick. Nuh-uh. The turtle just turned-turtle and pulled its head and feet in. Oh great. Standing in the middle of the road in the pouring rain with a turtled-turtle. I poked it again. Nothing. Fine. My only alternative, other than picking it up, which wasn't going to happen, was pushing it across the road with the broom pole.

And that's precisely when I noticed the huge mudder-tucking leech glommed on the turtle's hiney. It was SO gross! Ooky to the nth! Poor turtle. I tried to wipe the leech off its back with the pole. Didn't move. I gently tapped it, trying to squish it or convince it to leave. Didn't move. I threw sand and pebbles at it. Hung on like, well, like a leech. I would have ran back to the house for salt if the turtle wasn't in the middle of the road like a kamikaze suicide pilot waiting for the next available mini-van to come by and toaster-size it to turtle-pizza glory.

"Fine," I thought, and started pushing the turtle towards the river, using the pole. Have you ever tried to push a round object with a stick? It doesn't go straight ahead. It kind of turns. Is this how hockey was invented? Some poor idiot in her pjs schlepping a spinning turtle across the road?

Stick-handling the turtle across the pavement wasn't too bad, although the turtle may have road rash to contend with, but once we hit the shoulder, gravel and sand started building up in the turtle's front end. She'd stick her head out as if to spit out her mouth full of gravel and I'd say, "Well if you don't like it, put your feet out and WALK." But she'd look at me with her best "meh" expression and pull her head back in so I was, like, "FINE, eat dirt then, stoopid turtle." She finally got the idea when we got to the riverbank. Suddenly she plonked out her four wheel drive and made a beeline to the edge of the two-foot drop and then, whooooooosh, dove off the edge and onto the sandy beach below.

Like peanut butter on toast, she landed upside down.

Stoopid turtle.

With a sigh I climbed down the riverbank and used the pole to set her upright. She swam away without a thank you or a backwards glance, the leech still glommed onto her ass, sucking turtle ass-juice for all it was worth.

A to Z Honesty - T is for Turtles

This was the BEST thing we did on the weekend. We saved turtles!
Teeny tiny newborn Painted Turtles, no bigger than a loonie. Or maybe
even a quarter. Isn't this little guy the cutest thing ever? Look at him looking
at the camera with his teeny tiny eyes and his teeny tiny tail. So cute!

We live next to the Muskoka River (thus the blog title - I know, I'm so original)
and thus are privy to plenty of animal comings and goings. But last summer we
were treated to the sight of this mama turtle laying her eggs under neath our mailbox.
If you look close you can see her face on the left - she's hiding in the grass. Can you blame
her? Wouldn't you hide if you were giving birth under our mailbox?

And there's Mommy again, under the mailbox. (Yes, I painted
the mailbox. Because I am an artist. LOL) So these two photos
were taken last June. We waited a long time to see babies and
eventually forgot all about Mama Turtle and her mailbox eggs.

And then! On Saturday! We were outside getting some fresh air when Dave
noticed a baby turtle had been run over by a car. Just a wee tiny baby, flattened
in the middle of our road. We felt terrible. "Let's look around for more," Dave
said, because Dave, who is a walking-talking Nature Guide, said there likely would be.
Well, it wasn't any longer than a minute that we saw a turtle hiding in the brown
grass next to the road. And another turtle. Five in total, all doing their best to
be incognito as they headed for the road. Looking for them was like looking for
mud-coloured Easter eggs. "Turtles," I implored, "why do you want to
go across the road when there's a river on THIS side of the road? Why, turtles?
Why?" The turtles had no answer. They just hung out in our plastic bowl,
looking incredibly cute.

Sam and Dave wanted to keep the turtles as pets. Uh oh, I thought, envisioning
a smelly turtle tank in our house. "They're wild animals," I said, appealing to their
love of nature. "They don't want to be cooped up in our house. They want to be in the river,
free." I started singing "Born Free, as free as the wind blows." Even the teeny tiny
baby turtles covered their teeny tiny turtle ears. I found the Kawartha Turtle Trauma Centre
online and I gave them a call. The woman I spoke with was really, really nice. I told her
about our baby turtles and wondered what we should do – just plunk them in the river or
place them on a log? I didn't ask about keeping them as pets because I knew that was
just plain wrong.

She said to place them on the shore and wait for them to crawl into the river.
Dave, who likes things to be organized, lined them all up like they were
going to be in a Great Race. I think he must have liked Hot Wheels as a kid.
Look how cute those baby turtles are! I am in love with their cuteness.

There's always one keener in every crowd. This was him. First one to leave
the starting line, first one to run to the water, first one in.

He wasted no time getting into the water and in a matter of minutes he had
swum so far out that we lost track of him. Most of the other turtles followed suit.
There were a couple of slow pokes but even they eventually swam away.
Now that they're gone I miss them terribly. I know you shouldn't keep
wild animals as pets and I never would – but seriously? Aren't these fellahs
just adorable?