TIFU by rescuing a baby turtle.

The context of this story is crucial because it made it so much worse: we were supposed to leave for a weekend trip to Chattanooga for Memorial Day this morning after breakfast. While my wife finished packing her bag, I was given the task to drop our dog off with his food and leash to my MIL for the long weekend. I offered to take our girls (ages 3 and 7) in the car with me for the short round-trip to give my lady some space while packing.

Not 100 yards from our house on our dead-end road I saw a small turtle in the road, maybe five inches (12 cm) in length. We aren’t really near a body of water and I assume it was a young eastern box turtle, which sometimes trek all the way up here. My oldest LOVES turtles, snakes, and frogs, so I told her to hop out and bring it in the car so we could rehome it at Mimi’s — they have a little neighborhood pond.

My daughter starts to get it into the car and immediately I get hit with the smell. It sure doesn’t smell like the box turtles or red eared sliders that we usually see.

I turn back to see that it is, in fact, a snapping turtle that my tiny-fingered daughter is handling. Shocked, I tell her to put it down. I should have been clearer; she dropped it in the car. I unbuckled and ran around, but people who talk about turtles being slow are total liars — it scampered under the passenger seat and before I could stop it, went past the passenger floorboard and under a gap in the center console!

This is a 2010 Honda CRV, my wife’s car, the car we are packing for a road trip for four days and that turtle has gone deep toward the firewall. A million concerns go through my head: the thing is going to die in there if we don’t find it. Our trip is going to be delayed until I take apart this car. I can’t have it come out on the other side and bite my toes or, more likely, jam the brake pedal by being under it. And of course, my wife is going to be pissed that this happened in her car.

When I got to my in-law’s, I got to work on the car just by popping plastic panels with a screwdriver, hoping in vain that I can solve this before anyone finds out. I got three panels, part of the dash, and the glovebox out before I had a sinking feeling that I was headed to the mechanic instead of on vacation. I could see him. I could smell him. I couldn’t reach him and he was still crawling up, now almost behind the dash.

Finally, I left my girls with a laughing MIL and called the garage on my way. They didn’t understand entirely — “No, it’s on the INSIDE of the car. Yes, a turtle.” I’ve never seen a bunch of mechanics so excited and eager for a challenge. That eagerness turned to frustration when we couldn’t find it anymore. Five guys at once, including the owner, were pulling parts, shining flashlights, using tools to try to flush him out, then asking if I was “ABSOLUTELY SURE” about the turtle, like this is how I get my kicks.

30 minutes in they found him, but he was really inaccessible. They asked, “is he a pet?” which I correctly interpreted as “is it okay if we kill it to get it out?” I told them I really don’t want it hurt and then they started quoting time and cost for the full removal of my wife’s dashboard. We agreed to get more creative with the tools and they used this stick grabber for loose bolts. I’ll try to put a photo in the comments.

Eventually he popped free, scared and gape-mouthed! None of these guys wanted to touch it and were trying to pick it up with huge pliers — I just grabbed it because I’d rather be bit than have it crawl back in. The guys wanted a picture and then I released it in a nearby stream. They didn’t charge me, but I definitely gave them a tip.

I’m happy to say that I am writing this from a hotel in Chattanooga!

TL;DR: Right before leaving on vacation, we tried to rescue a turtle in the road. It ended up being a snapping turtle, got away in the car, ran into the dash, and took five professional mechanics almost an hour to safely remove. It’s safe in a new home!