Turtle Update
Well, it took some doing, but I finally reached both of my sons (the only people who have keys to my house) and they both flatly deny leaving the turtle. So, that only leaves the dogs. My money is on Toast being the one who brought her in, but she and Josie were locked up all day, so unless the turtle came in already gnawed on, it was Tala who did the chewing. Not letting her near the hamster ever again...
Kevin insisted that we put the turtle in the garage while we went to the movie. That seemed like a bad idea to me, but he's apparently pretty turtle-phobic, so I acquiesced. We went to the movie, grabbed a bite and drove home. As we pulled up, Kevin said to go in and get the turtle, we were taking her to the park right now. After some consideration, I agreed. Dunegant backs up to an old farm that the school district uses as a hands on nature teaching center, and there's a lot of wild acreage attached. Turtle Shagri-La.
However, if you've ever been in my garage, or any garage, for that matter, you know that there's about a million places for a turtle to hide. She had thoughtfully left us two little turtle poops of our very own (!), thus proving Kevin's point about not leaving her in the house, but the turtle herself had gone walkabout. Or crawlunder. Or something.
After looking for about 20 minutes, including moving some stuff that I swear hasn't been moved since I moved into this house, we agreed that if we couldn't find her, we'd leave the garage door cracked about 6 inches overnight, and surely she would wander out on her own. Not the perfect solution, since it would turn her loose in a suburban setting with lots of concrete, more dogs, and unsupervised, destructive children with too much time on their hands, but it beat thinking of having her starve or dehydrate in the garage. Then, he said "Wait." and moved the stepladder right next to the door, and there she was.
He had me pick her up, then we loaded in the car to drive to the park. I put her on the floor at my feet, and she damn near took a header onto the asphalt at the park. I went to walk her over to the edge of the woods, and she stretched her head waaaaay back over her shell, like she wanted to bite me. I said "Hey, don't do that. No biting." Kevin said, "What do you expect. She was hiding under some rags." Like that proved all turtles are evil, and lie in wait to attack unsuspecting human benefactors...
Anyhow, we set her down, and watched to see that she headed off in the right direction. I came home and scrubbed down with Dial; salmonella would suck. And Kevin keeps saying "That's so fucking bizarre..."
So, what do you suppose it means when a three-toed box turtle suddenly appears in your life?
Kevin insisted that we put the turtle in the garage while we went to the movie. That seemed like a bad idea to me, but he's apparently pretty turtle-phobic, so I acquiesced. We went to the movie, grabbed a bite and drove home. As we pulled up, Kevin said to go in and get the turtle, we were taking her to the park right now. After some consideration, I agreed. Dunegant backs up to an old farm that the school district uses as a hands on nature teaching center, and there's a lot of wild acreage attached. Turtle Shagri-La.
However, if you've ever been in my garage, or any garage, for that matter, you know that there's about a million places for a turtle to hide. She had thoughtfully left us two little turtle poops of our very own (!), thus proving Kevin's point about not leaving her in the house, but the turtle herself had gone walkabout. Or crawlunder. Or something.
After looking for about 20 minutes, including moving some stuff that I swear hasn't been moved since I moved into this house, we agreed that if we couldn't find her, we'd leave the garage door cracked about 6 inches overnight, and surely she would wander out on her own. Not the perfect solution, since it would turn her loose in a suburban setting with lots of concrete, more dogs, and unsupervised, destructive children with too much time on their hands, but it beat thinking of having her starve or dehydrate in the garage. Then, he said "Wait." and moved the stepladder right next to the door, and there she was.
He had me pick her up, then we loaded in the car to drive to the park. I put her on the floor at my feet, and she damn near took a header onto the asphalt at the park. I went to walk her over to the edge of the woods, and she stretched her head waaaaay back over her shell, like she wanted to bite me. I said "Hey, don't do that. No biting." Kevin said, "What do you expect. She was hiding under some rags." Like that proved all turtles are evil, and lie in wait to attack unsuspecting human benefactors...
Anyhow, we set her down, and watched to see that she headed off in the right direction. I came home and scrubbed down with Dial; salmonella would suck. And Kevin keeps saying "That's so fucking bizarre..."
So, what do you suppose it means when a three-toed box turtle suddenly appears in your life?