Turtle Droppings

Yesterday I let my dog out to do his morning, um, well, the stuff he does in the morning. Sometimes he takes a while. I think he has a copy of US Weekly stashed out there somewhere. Yesterday was no different, except he was barking and barking and barking. I sent Madeleine out there to see what was going on. Good job mom, send the kid out, not knowing if there was a rabid possum or something.

Madeleine ran back in the house saying, “Mom, it’s a turtle! It’s a turtle! Let’s get Graham!” Graham is our resident herpetologist. I had to look that word up because I almost wrote hepatologist. Course I do like my beer, maybe he should study that.

Anyhoo, Graham and I went out there to get Frodo away from the turtle. Let my geekness shine thru! I admit it,  I named my dog Frodo. This turtle was a biggin’. I kid you not, that puppy’s turtle’s shell was about 8 inches across. Graham said it was a box turtle. He also said it was laying eggs. About 24 of them. That might have been an exaggeration.

Of course I’m doubting it and tell Graham it’s prolly pooping.

WRONG!

Then I feel bad for the turtle because she was just trying to lay some eggs and this big ‘ole dog was barking at her. Sadly I didn’t have my head together in time to take a picture of the actual turtle, but I did get some really cool egg photos.

I’m wondering what I should do about it and a friend of mine tells me that I should call animal control because turtles are protected and I could get in trouble if I don’t keep them safe.

Oh man, this is going to be awful. I picture men in HAZMAT suits coming in and cordoning off a section of my backyard. The kids can’t play out there, I can’t let the dog out for his morning stuff. This is going to be awful. I have no idea why I pictured men in HAZMAT suits. You’d think I’d picture white girls with long dreadlocks, peasant skirts and smelling like patchouli oil floating in to take care of them,  but no, I pictured, “the man”.

I toy with the idea of just hoping they’ll hatch on their own and it becoming a really cool science project for the kids, but guilt weighs in on me. What if they die? How are they going to find their way back to the little creek in my backyard?

So I call animal control waiting for them to bring in, “The Team”. The lady says, “I dunno, here’s the Fish and Wildlife’s number, call them.”

My heart’s pounding. Fish and Wildlife, it’s all over. I’ll have newscameras at my house. I haven’t lost all my weight yet, the camera adds 10 lbs., my hair, it’s awful. At least I got a pedicure, but frick, I’m really going to have to clean the house. Maybe I can have the reporters go through the back gate. They really don’t need to be in my house at all. Oh man,  I will have no peace at my home until these babies hatch. The DFW’s response?

 “MEH”

“I don’t know what you do with them. What kind of turtle is it?”

A box turtle.

“Well maybe you can put some kind of cover over them to keep them safe? It’s not a Gopher Tortoise, right? Those are the ones that are protected.”

Nope.

“Yeah, then I don’t know what you do. Try to keep them safe till they hatch.”

Um, thanks?

Well we definitely had to put some kind of cover over them because Frodo desperately wanted some eggs for breakfast.

Please mom, can’t I have turtle soup?

I waited for pjdaddy to get home to devise some sort of cover for the turtles.

You know you’re a redneck if………….

Here’s the little eggies this morning after a good rain.

I can see about 6 eggs in there.

It will be fun to see what happens. If anybody has an opinion or knows I’m caring for them wrong, you’re quite welcome to tell me.

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