11/10/2023
On my way home today, I passed a large turtle in the middle of the highway. From my perspective, it looked like she was trying to finish crossing the road, with her guts dragging the ground behind her. I was sure she had already been hit by a car. Not wanting her to suffer, I quickly turned around to catch up to her, with the intention of euthanizing her on the spot, as her injuries were so great.
To my relief, as I caught up to her and pulled over onto the soggy, grassy shoulder, I saw that she was not injured. She was a snapping turtle, and the "guts" dragging the ground behind her, was only her tail. It was long and plated, not unlike a stegosaurus.
Now I don't know if you've ever tried to help a large snapping turtle cross the road, but it goes something like this:
First, you try to pick it up. You know she has a long neck, and jaws powerful enough to snap the bone in any given finger, but you figure that if you grab her directly from above, and exactly in the right spot, that she won't be able to reach you. So you go for it. And instantly realize that this method isn't going to work. Because you forgot to take into account the speed with which she can extend her long neck and snap her jaws. It's so fast, that if you blink while she is defending herself, you will miss this move entirely. And you quickly lose confidence that you will even be able to hold her in a spot, that her long, snappy, hook-like jaws can't reach.
So you quickly recalculate. Logically, nudging her in the right direction with your foot seems to be the next best option. And if you're wearing knee high, thick rubber rain boots as I was today, you think that this will probably work. So you go for it, thinking that a little tap with your foot on her rear end will send her scurrying off into the right direction. But no such luck. She's already mad at you for trying to pick her up, and now she wants to kill you. So anytime your foot comes within 6 inches of her body, she attacks, and you quickly realize that she would bite right through your otherwise invincible rain boots, and probably have one of your toes for dinner.
You would then glance up at the growing line of cars behind you, and realize that it probably wouldn't be too much longer before people lost their patience with your snapping turtle shenanigans and start to honk at you to get out of the road. And so you know you've got to find a solution. And fast. Because Miss Snappypants is holding her ground in the middle of the road, and has lost all interest in crossing it. She wants blood.
In a last-ditch effort to give her safe crossing, you would glance around to see what tools you had at your disposal. Nothing but swamp, and sticks.
And sticks! Eureka!
I grabbed a small branch from one of the slash pines that lined the edge of the road, about the length of a golf club. I went to gently nudge her with it, and just as I had imagined, she quickly latched on. I pulled her in the direction of the side of the road a few inches before it broke off in her mouth. The break was partially because she had jaws of steel, and partially because she was pushing 20 lbs. So I did it again. And again, I was able to pull her a few more inches off to the side before it broke off. In this instance, the fourth time was the charm, and she was safely on the mucky shoulder as we bid each other adieu. I watched her for a second to see if she would turn around and head back into the swamp, but instead she held her ground, staring at me with contempt as I hurried back to the car.
Thankful this ordeal was over and everyone was safe, I turned the car around and headed home once again. But I didn't get very far. Because about a half mile away, there was another large snapping turtle on the side of the road. This one looked like it was getting ready to cross, so I turned around and caught up to it as I had done with the previous one, with the intention of acting as a crossing guard, and making sure she had safe passage, as this was a rather busy highway.
As I got close to her though, I saw that she was injured. It looked to me like she had been hit already. The tip of her nose was gone, her right eye was hanging out of its socket, and her long tale was wrapped alongside her body, which reminded me of a dog with its tail between its legs. I bent over and looked at her more closely. She tilted her head to the side and looked up at me as best she could. There was no aggression here. It broke my heart to know that she wasn't dead yet, and probably in an immense amount of pain.
What are the odds?
I got my phone out of the car and called the Wildlife Sanctuary. I told them I had a large snapping turtle that I think needed euthanized. They said they closed in 15 minutes. I told them I would be there in 30.
I took off my sweatshirt and wrapped it over her, then gently placed her in a box I had in the trunk. And not long after, I dropped her off at the Wildlife Sanctuary. They are so awesome. They were waiting for me in the driveway. She is in good hands now. Whether or not she will survive, I do not know. But what I do know is that they immediately pumped her full of pain meds, and that they are going to try and save her life. And if they can't, they will let her go. Either way, she is no longer suffering. And that's something.
I wrote this down for several reasons. The first one being, to remember. I like to write things down to remember them, and I think that if I grow old, it will be fun to come back and read these stories one day. The second reason, is to remind everyone to pay attention to their surroundings when they drive. Seriously, it's the least we can do. After the way we've paved the great outdoors in concrete, we owe it to the displaced animals to not let them suffer should they get hit by a car. Unfortunately, hitting wild animals is a daily occurrence here in Florida. Their corpses litter nearly every roadway. If you hit an animal, STOP. Assess its injuries. If it's savable, save it. If it's not, be sure it's dead so that it does not suffer. Can you fathom getting hit by a car, but not dying instantly? Imagine lying by the side of a busy roadway, in the hot sun and rain, in excruciating pain, overwhelmed with confusion and anxiety, and counting down the minutes until you finally died. It would feel like an eternity. If you have the ability to prevent that from happening, then by all means, do it. Always always do it.
Lastly, I wrote this down to encourage all of you to support your local wildlife sanctuary. They do wonderful, amazing work, and are often all volunteer operations, that cannot survive without local support. Find the one nearest to you and see what they need.
I plan to call Wildlife Sanctuary of Northwest Florida, Inc. this weekend to get an update, and see if she made it. In the meantime, if you think of it, send a prayer her way. She is the sweetest little snapping turtle I have ever met.
*This story was originally posted on my personal page in May of 2021. With the rain approaching, reptiles will be on the move, and so I thought it was important to share it here now. And I am happy to report that though the snapping turtle lost her eye, she eventually recovered and was successfully released, thanks to the awesome staff at our local wildlife sanctuary.