…when you look out the kitchen window and see a HUGE snapping turtle resting on top of the wood pile.
We have no idea how he (?) managed to get so far from where he was headed, which was probably the pond in the front yard, but the wood pile is against the patio railing, and the stream is just on the other side of the fence. Obviously, the critter was instinctively headed for the nearest water, but he certainly wasn’t going to get there from where he was. What would seem to be the direct route is not always the best approach.
Fortunately, the wheelie bin didn’t have much recycling in it, so I just dumped it out onto the patio. I put the bin behind the snapper and the lid in front of him, and he backed himself up, right where I wanted him. The Squire put the bin in the van and trucked our visitor over to church, where a flight of steps leads directly down into the Gunpowder River. Bon Voyage, Charlie!
Another member of the congregation was working on the Colonial Garden and asked The Squire what he had in the bin. He showed her, and Dot shuddered. “I’m surprised your wife didn’t try to make a pet of it.”
Boy! She’s got me pegged.
thisendoftheswamp 