My wife ain't a sissy

There's always a story behind a picture like this...

So the dog was going nuts in the backyard this afternoon, and our daughter comes trotting in to tell us, "Duchess found something!"

Here in rural southeast North Carolina, that could be anything from a baby possum to a funny-looking bush blowing in the wind to an alligator, bobcat, or water moccasin.

My wife and I dashed outside to see what was going on, and there was the dog, harassing a young snapping turtle.

The turtle was so covered in clumps of mud (it's been raining all day) that we could hardly tell what it was, though. I scooped it up in the sandbox lid, and then my wife grabbed a bucket and chivvied the turtle in with a stick.

She then carried it into the bathroom, where, placing the turtle in the bathtub, she scrubbed it off with the toilet brush. It may be the only time in history that confluence of objects has taken place.

The dog continued to carry on from the kitchen, quite concerned that we had gone into a room alone with that dangerous creature from the nether worlds.

Our daughter thought it was the greatest thing (she decided it was her "princess turtle") -- we had to emphasize very clearly to her that if she ever sees a turtle with that shaped shell and long tail, she must never try to touch it.

My wife's approach to dealing with the reptilian is so far removed from my mother's (sometime, I'll have to tell you about my captive crawfish in the kitchen), and most women's, for that matter, that I can only chuckle. My wife has even caught a small snake or two, after I taught her which ones were safe. I'm very proud. Now, if she can only learn how to deal with spiders...