So, last year, I’m mowing my grass and right before I hit it, I see a turtle shell. The turtle was about as big as a softball, and it was by pure luck I didn’t kill it then. I felt good about that. From time to time, I’d see the turtle, always in a different spot, but always hanging out in my backyard. I don’t know what was so fascinating back there, but I assume the turtle was happy.
Fast-forward to last weekend. I’m mowing a big old section of grass behind some trees that I don’t mow regularly. I was out there for about 40 minutes. And then, it happened. I ran over my turtle. I never saw it! It knew I was out there mowing, couldn’t it have moved into the woods, or on a rock, or at least stick its head up and give me fair warning?
I feel like crap.
It was kind of like my adopted yard mascot. At least it had to be a quick way to go. I hope.
I don’t know much about turtles, but I assume it was the same one. Either way, it was a nasty sound, and cleaning my mower was no fun.