Wednesday, August 24, 2011


  OK, Monday morning when I was going to put my horse out he wouldn't come out of the stall so I went to see why.  I thought he was just being stubborn but as I got to the doorway of the stall I was mistaken, VERY.  My horse put his head down to look and sniff at something, I looked down too and this is what I almost stepped on!

Having good reflexes comes in very handy at times and living on a farm helps to perfect that skill.  Also you have perfected the squeal - not just any squeal but 'THE Squeal'.*
(Sharpi: *Not to be confused with the Lesser Squeal reserved for things like rodents, reptiles, spiders and the like. THE Squeal happens to be the one that nearly gives me heart attacks. The one that Irish Rose and Chickadee can't seem to reserve for actual events that require an instant adrenaline rush and a trip to the hospital. (Personally I think they're trying to give me premature gray hair.)
So I am halfway back to the barn when I hear THE Squeal and it is an immediate flood of possible tragedies that just took place. I can envision broken bones, blood, concussion, dying horse, etc.)

   Any way, after I executed both of these quite admirably I stepped back even farther because I could tell my horse wanted out of there and out of there NOW!  He bolted out covering the turtle partially with dirt.  I thought he might have stepped on it too so I went over and lightly touched it with the lead rope I had (having enough sense not to touch it with my own hand) and he moved slightly.  He sure didn't look like that other nice turtle we found last year on the road, but that's another story.
 Sharpi was there when I touched him ("A turtle? You used THE Squeal on a turtle!!!) and wanted to get her camera.  As she went up to the house I put my horse out, apologizing many times for being upset with him for not coming out, telling him I didn't blame him one bit for not wanting to go near that thing.  After that I also went up to the house thinking that if we were going to move the turtle we might want the nice thick stove gloves just in case.

   Sharpi had said not to tell Mommy and Irish Rose about the turtle because she wanted it to be a surprise. After Mommy asked what was going on, I just said she would see when we took them down to the barn.

So the expedition set out; one photographer, two adventurers, and one not very but sort of prepared hero, ME!
When we arrived the turtle was still -OK turtle is too friendly a word to use for this particular intruder - I will just use The Beast- the Beast was still where he had been left, partially buried in the dirt.  As we got closer Mommy wondered if it was dead, I said it wasn't gently poked it's tail and again it moved ever so slightly.  Mommy said she thought it was a Snapper.  They handed me a rake and I gently began to poke it and yes it was a Snapper because it started trying to snap at the rake.

I tried to turn the Beast over so we could see underneath it. But it would only lean against the rake so that I couldn't turn it over.  After a time we finally got the Beast into this black tub and were going to show Daddy when he got home, then decide what to do with it.
But in between one of the trips to make sure the Beast was still there it escaped!  Sharpi and I looked around trying to find it but didn't.  Now every time we go to the barn we carefully look where we're going, just in case it's lurking in the shadows:)
Aren't you supposed to be able to pick Snapping turtles up by their tail?  Well, if you don't know for sure it's all ways better to be safe than sorry so we didn't try it.  And I don't know how well I would have like picking this up?
Look at the feet!  And the claws!
Hopefully if it was a she she didn't lay her eggs in the barn.

1 comment:

  1. Never a dull moment on the home front! :) Where are those boys when you need them........although, I am thinking my girls are doing pretty good at adventures. :)