Julia's new t-shirt: "I save ducks."

One fine spring afternoon while walking around Blue Mountain College campus, I and my friends, Julia, Rachel, (with her dog Colby) and Vivian, visited the college pond on which a brand spankin' new dock had been built.

We dillied for a while, and then we dallied some and watched the ducks swim pleasantly along.  

 (they were mostly mallards like this fine fellow)

All of a sudden, the one closest to us spazzed out! He began violently flapping his wings and lunging in the water. 

 (kind of like this, but...not...'cause he was deep in the water. not a very effective swimming technique)

Immediately, of course, his friends swam for shore, quacking like it would save their lives. He tried to follow them, but made little headway, and Julia and I began to laugh. 

"Stupid duck. He's trying to fly practically underwater. He's probably mental."

Then we saw it. 

A huge, loathsome snapping turtle had caught the poor duck's foot in his mouth and was holding on with his powerful snapping turtle jaws!

(ok, so maybe it wasn't this big. but it thought it was. i know it did. he had that smug look on his grimy face. (and you'd best be fearin' the mullet. this guy is intense))

Then we started spazzing out.  

"Holy cow! That poor duck!" 
"It's prolly gonna be lame for life!" 
"What is the turtle trying to do, eat it??"
"Run for help! Call PETA!"
"Throw the dog in, maybe it'll go into underwater attack mode and take the turtle out!"

But the moment of truth finally came. We knew it was up to us to save this poor duck's life before the monster ate it...er...mauled it to death...or whatever it was trying to do, or it died from exhaustion.

 We quickly left the dock and ran (more like slow crawled. i'm tellin' you, this duck was not going anywhere fast) and tried to help it. We threw rocks at the turtle, we shouted, we tried to reach out and grab the duck and pull it to shore...nothing worked. 
Finally, the duck flapped its way over to a sand bar that was sticking out, and we took our chance. I held Julia's hand so that she could lean out further, and she took my shoe...

(something akin to this lovely jelly sandal, but red and not as ugly)

...and started hitting the turtle hard!

"Julia, Aim for the neck!  The shell is there for a reason!"

Wham!

She brought the now muddy jelly sandal down with all her Jones might and hit the turtle square on its scuzzy neck.

It promptly let go and rolled over in the water


"We don't think that's cute, idiot. Rolling over is only cute when dogs and babies do it."

Without stopping to say "Thank you" or "What a bit of luck you happened along, chaps, or I'd have been duck soup," the duck waddled quickly up the bank to join its comrades, who straightaway began peppering him with questions about his adventure.

"Dude! That was epic!"
"How did you survive??"
"Are you ok??"
"What was it like?!"

He very calmly ruffled his feathers, and if he had had fingernails, he would've blown them off and rubbed them on his vest...if he had had one.


"Psh, it was nothing. I've taken on snappers twice that size. All it takes is strong leg muscles, perseverance, and...strong leg muscles."

The ingrate.

All we got out of the deal was wet clothing and muddy shoes.

Oh. And joy that we had just saved...a duck. 

And kept a turtle from doing something that he would have doubtless regretted for the rest of his life. Now he won't have to lay awake at nights and struggle with his guilt. 

'Cause that's all we cared about, really.