May 15, 2014

What's slower than a tortoise? A dead tortoise.

My mailman either has a crush on me or hates my guts.  I base this theory on the fact that he rings the doorbell 80% of the time he brings the mail (crush).  But knows that I have an infant that might be napping and a bark that definitely goes ape shit every time the doorbell rings (hates guts).
Usually it's to give me a parcel that is slightly bigger than the mailbox but could easily be left on the front stoop (crush).  But yesterday it was to give me some disturbing news.
"Hey, I don't want to gross you out, but there is a dead turtle in your yard and buzzards are starting to swarm.  That thing is going to smell pretty terrible in a few days." 
I told him I wondered what happened to it because I could see the shell in tact clear as day in my front yard, leading to believe a car was not the culprit.
"I'm not sure but his head is pretty much ripped off."
I was going to take a picture of the turtle for the blog, but no...It's not really the platform for dead turtle pics.
I had the pleasure of telling Grant when he got home that the recycling, trash, and dead turtle needed to be taken to the street for pick up. 
The only person who might have been more shocked upon seeing a casually dead turtle in our front yard was the trash collector who caught a quick glimpse or a turtle cadaver dropping from the large green can. 
Mail time is nearing for today's drop off.  Let's see if he decides to ring the door bell and start a new chain of chaos in the household!  My girl Rosie can baaaaaaark.

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