Snapping turtles and evening commutes

(Story taken from the BackRoom at NDNation)

On my way home from work yesterday, I had to stop my car on a woodsy back road because a woman had parked in the opposite lane and was trying to pick up an animal in the middle of my lane. I got out of the car and saw that it was a large snapping turtle--shell about 16 inches long and 12 inches wide, head the size of my fist. She kept trying to grab it and it kept snapping violently at her.

I encouraged her to cease attempting to pick the animal up, at which point she said, "We have to pick it up!" I responded that I would gladly take a large stick and usher it to the side of the road, but that I would refrain from handling it. "But I think it's hurt!" she cried. I inspected the turtle and the shell seemed intact. There was no visible blood or wounds on the turtle's legs/head. I asked her why she thought the turtle was hurt. She responded:

"Because it's moving slowly and erratically!"

Before my internal filter could kick in, I answered, "That's because it's a fucking turtle, ma'am."

It went downhill from there. She said she was going to take it to a shelter (a turtle shelter?). I didn't argue, as traffic was backing up behind our cars and I wanted to get out of this situation before that thing latched onto one of us or took off a finger. She said, "I'll go open my door. You pick it up and bring it over to my car." I demurred with the comment, "No way, lady. If you're hell-bent on taking this unharmed turtle to the humane society, YOU pick it up and I'LL open your door."

She finally grabs this thing toward the back of the shell and hustles it over toward the car. She's holding it out in front of her so that the head's pointing toward the car and it's hissing and snapping and generally going as crazy as a turtle can go. She instructs me to open up the back door of her car as her trunk is full, and I do so. She runs up to the car and points the business end of the turtle into the back seat. This is when her two daughters, seated in the rear seat of the car, see the turtle and begin screaming and pressing themselves up against the other side of the car like they're undergoing a high-G turn. It was alternately startling and darkly humorous.

The mother instructed her kids to head for the front seat and then proceeded to deposit the turtle on the floorboards in the back seat. Before she does so, the turtle lets its bladder go with a whoosh all over her cloth back seat. Turtle urine smells really, really bad--can't wait for that to dry out in the DC heat. The last thing I saw as I closed the door is the turtle ambling under the front seat toward the driver's feet, but the woman sped off before I could warn her.

Surreal.