A couple Saturdays ago we were coming home from a church picnic at Rockbridge State Park, and were almost at the intersection of Providence and Stadium. Suddenly Charlie slammed on the brakes, swerved, and then wildly pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out.

There’s only one thing that would provoke this type of reaction from my mild-mannered husband.

A turtle.

Charlie ran into traffic (on a curve) to save the turtle from itself. Several other vehicles also swerved to avoid it, and by the time Charlie caught up with it there was no more traffic coming and it had almost reached the grassy side of the road. This little turtle had just crossed six lanes of 50mph traffic unscathed.

Charlie picked the turtle up and ran back to the truck and tried to hand the turtle to me. I, preferring my turtles to be outside rather than on my lap, requested that he be put in the back of the truck.

We brought him home, played with him in the backyard, fed him strawberries, and used him as a ploy to meet some of the neighbours. Then we put him in a plant pot and set him free in the park nearby. He was the most aggressive turtle we’ve ever seen, and never stopped trying to escape or bite our fingers off. Charlie named him Lucky.

All the best, Lucky, wherever you are. And watch out, we’ve heard there is a rooster in the neighbourhood.

Our next visitor was much more placid. In fact, we didn’t see it move at all. I assume it was alive. We learned it was a giant leopard moth.

Oh, and the bunny.

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