The Old Striped-Head

Early Saturday afternoon I was busy in the garden, working up a 30 foot row and planting Contender Green Beans.  We love green beans.  In a couple of weeks I'll work up another row and plant some more so that we have a staggered harvest.  I was wiping the sweat off my brow when Big Boy, our Great Pyrenees Livestock Guardian dog began barking.  Let me back up.  I use the adjective 'guardian' very, very loosely.  Theoretically he's a guardian dog.  In actuality, he's a predator dog who enjoys eating our laying hens.  As a result, he's banished from the barnyard.

He is still a guardian dog for us, I guess, because he barks his head off at visitors that he doesn't know, cats, possums, raccoons, and other dogs.  As I was hoeing in the garden, that dude began barking and would not stop.  I was busy and tried to tune him out but it was annoying.  Finally I put the hoe down and began walking over his way.  At the same time Tricia came out of the house and said, "What is he barking at?"

He was barking at a turtle that had ambled up in the yard.  I guess we can rest easily tonight knowing that if a bloodthirsty turtle shows up at the house meaning to do our family harm, Big Boy will alert us.  This is the vicious turtle he was barking at:

A Striped-Head Turtle

A striped head turtle.  That's what we always call them anyway.  Their official name is a Red-Eared Slider.  They are found by the hundreds in every roadside ditch.  On summer days they line the top of logs in gullies and bayous.  Some people keep them as pets.  Some people around here eat them, but I've never tried to eat one. Seems like a lot of work for a little bit of meat.  When you pick them up, they are pretty timid as you can see:  Definitely not something that Big Boy should be all concerned about.

Shy Guy

While I was holding him by the garden fence, I thought about the old joke about the post turtle.  I've heard it about several different politicians of different persuasion and political stripe.  Have you heard it?  Let me put the Striped-Head Turtle up on the post so I can tell it:

An old rancher is talking about politics with a young man from the city. He compares a politician to a "post turtle". The young man doesn't understand and asks him what a post turtle is.
The old man says, "When you're driving down a country road and you see a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a post turtle. You know he didn't get up there by himself. He doesn't belong there; he can't get anything done while he's up there; and you just want to help the poor, dumb thing down."

The Post Turtle

Corny, I know.  So I got the poor thing down.  While I was setting him down, he began to talk to me. Fortunately, I speak "turtlese."  I'll translate what he told me.

Speak your mind, turtle

He told me that he thinks he now suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Whoa, even cornier! I set him down and he meandered off across the pasture. Adios, post turtle.