Last Thursday, I was driving to town, running late, when I drove past a box turtle. This cute little tortoise was standing between the yellow lines running down the middle of the road. I sped past him at 55mph and immediately regretted having done so.
Ten yards past him, I chastised myself for not stopping when I could have.
Ten yards later I realized that I could have stopped, but was too far now.
Ten yards later still I realized that I could have stopped either of the past few times.
And so on.
I’ve felt badly about it ever since. What is wrong with me that I think that what I have to do is so important that I can’t take two minutes to save a turtle’s life?
This morning I got to redeem myself. Driving to my in-laws’ for Mother’s Day brunch, I spotted a tiny box turtle, just entering the road. I hit the brakes, backed up, flipped on the flashers, and climbed out to help the little guy.
Does this make Thursday’s turtle gaffe karmically OK? Can saving the life of one road-crossing turtle compensate for failure to act in another instance? Or am I forever one turtle down in the count?
Just to be safe, I think I’m going to keep pulling over. Even when I’m in a hurry.
Well, now we know what Waldo’s mysterious illness of a few weeks ago was: Salmonella.
When we lived in Schuyler, I found a turtle sort of in traffic at the intersection of Routes 6 and 800. We pulled over and tried to move the turtle, but he was clinging on for dear life. Though I was being careful not to injure it in the process, I did exert quite a bit of force, but it was somehow glued to the pavement.
I wonder if it wasn’t my approaching it that scared it, and I didn’t actually endanger it more than if I hadn’t stopped.
I always wonder if I am putting the turtle on the wrong side of the road, and whether it will try to cross when I leave. Then again, they’re probably on the road on purpose — the asphalt is warm.
I’m glad to know I’m not the only person who has done this, although for me it was while riding a bicycle.
My jaw has dropped.
The value of all experience it the amount to which it expands wisdom and compassion. That you failed to act in the first case would have been a loss only if you hadn’t expanded your willingness to act subsequently. We’re all learning these same lessons, you’ve just decided to learn some the easy way from here on out. The hard way sucks a lot.
You can’t win this game, Waldo. It’s turtles all the way down.
Jon wins. :)
Just to be safe, I think I’m going to keep pulling over. Safe? Hmm:
Motor Vehicle Accidents Involving Turtles and other Wildlife
And to think I almost fell into their nefarious trap!
Waldo, I’m a turtle-saver too; I stop for at least a dozen every summer. It’s something of a duty for me, though, as I see them most often on my route to the Fluvanna SPCA where I volunteer. I can’t drive someplace with the express purpose of improving animal welfare and not improve animal welfare on the way! (Although karmically, perhaps I’m still trying to make up for the deer I hit one dark night after a FSPCA board meeting…)
Anyway, I have become way more vigilant for my own safety after reading this awful story from last summer. It made me acutely aware of how easily my animal-saving instincts can overwhelm self-preservation. I realized that because I feel so much less vulnerable than the itty-bitty turtle in the road, I’m not always as careful as I should be about where I stop my car, and whether I’m walking in the best place on the road in relation to that blind curve where people go 50 mph. So I balance my turtle-saving karma with the memory of Emily Kent’s short animal-loving life: transport to safety the ones I can, and think speedy-turtle thoughts for the ones I can’t.
It was a terrible feeling when I ran over a box turtle, terrible noise, too. Just didn’t see it until too late.
It’s the duty of every good Virginian to pull over and help these guys (take them to the side of the road toward which they were headed). Box turtles are not nearly as common as they were when I was a kid, I suspect traffic and loss of habitat are the main culprits. But help them out, folks (Just be careful about where you park and watch for traffic – you don’t have to sacrifice your life or property)
If you always look for turtles in the road, you will never hit one, unless you are tailgaiting. (Stop tailgaiting). Keep you eyes open. There is no reason that you sould see one too late. So many people are in a “brain daze” when driving that all sorts of animals get killed that could easily be avoided. I am always scanning for animals. I have missed 100’s. (I have hit a few,but no turtles.) I have also had the disgusting experience of watching several turtles mashed while I was in the process of going to save them. It is rather stomach-turning to watch an ancient turtle transformed from pristine, woodland sentinel, to a ruined, bloody-mess in an instant.
That said,Parenthia Page, I am sorry for you that you hit that ancient old beast.
Box turtles live to be VERY old-even older than humans. In fact those turtles you save may be the same ones your grandparents played with as children. Truly, they can live that long (although roads severly deminish their chances). In “Reptiles of Virginia” by J. Mitchell (ISBN 1560987545), there is a mention of a turtle found in 1985 with the year 1874 carved in its plastron (I.E. it was likely over >111 yrs old).