The Truth About Turtles

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
There's a vicious rumor being propogated that turtles are slow. Don't believe it! I learned the HARD way.

Submitted: March 25, 2007

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Submitted: March 25, 2007

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The Truth Aout Turtles

There’s a vicious rumor being propogated that turles are slow. Don’t believe it! It’s a lie straight from the pits of Hell. I KNOW. I tried to catch one once that was faster than a Southern Baptist reaching for a piece of fried chicken! (That’s not a derogatory comment, by the way. I can say that because I AM a Southern Baptist.)

My husband and I used to live in an old farmhouse in Kilmichael, Mississippi, off of Highway 413. Surrounded by cotton fields and pine trees, the property was a beautiful place to raise a baby. This was fortunate for me because I was six months pregnant with my first little daughter Ariana. I’m only four feet, seven inches tall, so when I get pregnant, there’s no room for a baby to grow. The fetus has to go SOMEWHERE, though, so as she gets larger, the only place to grow is OUT. Consequently, by my sixth month of pregnancy I looked like a walnut with legs. It was in this condition that I met "Superturle."

I was twenty-six years old at the time, but most days I felt like an overgrown kid. (Now, THAT’S ironic! Describing myself and using the word "overgrown" in the same sentence! Ha ha!) As a hobby, I collected turles and set them free in a watery drainage ditch on the property, just to watch them. (Nature fascinates me.) When my husband Tom and I were headed in the direction of home in our Ford pickup, oftentimes we saw turles crossing the road. We’d pull over to the side, I’d pick up my newest collection piece, and we’d be on our way.

Well, one spring day after running errands, we were headed back home in our old truck when we saw a large turtle crossing the road. No traffic was coming in either direction, so Tom pulled over and I rolled out of the truck to pick him up. I’d never had any trouble before, so I figured this would be just a routine turtle stop.

My treasure in a halfshell had other ideas. He may have thought that I planned to make turtle soup out of him. As I approached, Superturtle sprinted to the right side of the road. I was astounded at his speed! Even carrying a mobile home on his back, he would have put an Olympic runner to shame.

I stood up briefly, pointing to the bushes at the right side of the road. My mouth hung open in astonishment.

"Did you SEE that?" I yelled to my husband in the truck.

"Well, go GET him!" he shouted.

He was right. I wasn’t about to be outwitted by a turtle!

I bent over and rummaged through the bushes to find Superturle. He had left the bushes I was investigating and was partially in the road already, headed back toward the other side. I turned around and ran after him, still spraddle-legged and bent in half so that I could reach him. My large front end impaired my vision. (I hadn’t seen my own toes in three months.) So I had to be quick if I was going to catch him!

Superturle saw me coming, again! Now it was all-out war! He zigged. I zagged. He sped back and forth across the road like a souped up Volkswagon beetle. (There I go again! Turtle? Soup? I crack myself up! Wait! Shell? Crack? I’d better get back to the story.)

I ignored the uproarious laughter coming from the Ford pickup behind me. With unfailing tenacity I pursued my prey, never taking my eyes off his waxy-looking shell. (Oops! Turtle? Wax? I have GOT to be certifiably NUTS!) It was hunter versus hunted, prized ingredient versus chef! The momentum of my spherical front end propelled me forward, and I quickly learned to use it to my advantage. Another plus was that I was built like Superturtle: low to the ground.

The battle between large-brained human (???) and small-brained reptile raged on. A couple of times, I thought that Superturtle was going to get away, but finally in a glorious burst of energy, I caught him! Victory at last! I held Superturtle up to show my husband. The prize was mine!

Tom gave me a "thumbs-up" from the driver’s seat, undoubtedly impressed by my speed and agility. I beamed at him.

My emotional blaze of glory was extinguished by Superturtle, who was peeing as I held him up to show my husband. This sent Tom into a fresh fit of uncontrolled laughter! The nerve of some people!

I ignored him. With my dignity still intact, I walked at last to the bed of the pickup and laid Superturtle gently in the bed. He looked up at me and blinked, suddenly humbled by my awesome presence.

Superturtle enjoyed swimming in the drainage ditch in the front yard and stayed for several days. I also spoiled him with apple and potato peelings.

I used to think that turtles were slow-moving land animals, easily caught by humans. They’re NOT. Superturtle taught me THAT lesson!


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