The Very Definition Of A Nice Guy

There is a guy at work who loves nature. He and I sit at lunch together and talk about our observations. This morning he told me he saw a snapping turtle outside his garden. He has a large yard on a pond. His garden is near the pond. The snapper had come out of the pond and was eyeing his garden. He said the snapper was looking into the garden with it's neck outstretched and had big, puppy dog eyes. He figured the turtle wanted to lay eggs in the soft soil of his garden. He has a fence around his garden to keep the rabbits out. He buried the fence six inches into the soil to keep the gophers out. He compassionately tried to lift up the fence so the turtle could get in but couldn't because it was buried so tightly. So he took out 2 fence poles and laid the fence flat and held it down with some logs. He said the snapper was covered in duckweed and moss. Her shell was a foot across. Sure enough, the snapper waited patiently until he was done and crawled into the garden to lay eggs. He had laid the fence flat last night and this morning he saw the Momma Snapper in the garden. Isn't he the very definition of a nice guy? He wanted to be home to watch. He could barely stand it. He wanted to see where the turtle laid the eggs. He hoped it wasn't in the deep pile of sand next to his potato trenches. He hoped the turtle nest wasn't in a pumpkin hill. He hoped the turtle laid the eggs amidst his rows of corn. He said as a child his brother saw a turtle laying eggs. His brother dug up the eggs, took them home, looked up in a book how to bury the eggs and how long it would take to hatch, buried the eggs, and waited the prescribed time. The turtles did not come up so his brother dug into the nest. He found a big pile of baby turtles crawling in there who hadn't dug themselves out of the hole yet. His brother took all but one of the turtles back to their original nest home. He kept one in the yard for the summer and released it in the fall. I like turtles okay. I prefer Blanding or painted turtles to snappers. But if I saw a snapper yearning to lay eggs in my garden, would I take down my fence for it? No way. I'd tell that turtle to move along; go find another spot. I remember one turtle incident in Underwood, Minnesota. I was walking with a friend and Offspring #1 who was about 4 months old and seated in an umbrella stroller. We were walking down a mowed path through a grassy field toward a lake. Offspring #1 was fussing. I stopped to pick him up and put him on my shoulder while I continued to push the umbrella stroller ahead of me. Just a few minutes after I emptied the stroller, a big snapping turtle rushed out of the grasses and snapped at the front wheels of the baby stroller. Holy cow, that turtle scared me! My baby could have lost a toe if he was still in that stroller.