So there I was, just driving home for lunch, minding my own business when I spotted it in the middle of Indian Lane: a largish stone.
“What,” I thought, “is a largish stone doing in the middle of the road?”
But as my car neared the stone’s location at the posted 25 MPH speed limit, I noticed something: The stone was moving.
“Perhaps this is not a stone at all!” I thought. “Perhaps it is in fact a largish turtle!”
Clearly, the advanced reptile-spotting skills I developed in the steamy jungles of central America had paid off. In the nick of time, I veered to the left, hoping to allow the terrapin to pass safely beneath my car’s undercarriage. A glance into the rearview proved that my driving skills were as finely tuned as my reptile-spotting skills: The turtle had survived.
I pulled the car to the side of the road, put on my hazards and dashed toward the visibly shaken beast.
“There, there,” I said, gently lifting it from the middle of the road. “You’re in good hands.” I set it out of the path of traffic and nearer to its intended destination, the tepid waters of Brush Creek.
Am I a hero? That’s not for me to decide (If you happen to think I’m a hero, though, please let me know in the comments section. It would really help my self esteem).
But I will say this: That turtle would have done the same thing for me. If it had opposable thumbs, was twenty times bigger, and its species has the brain capacity to design, build and subsequently drive motor vehicles, that is.