As I drove down the national highways I found that there were quite a few dead animals on the side of the road. There were foxes, birds, armadillos, a deer, dogs, and many other animals that I couldn't figure out what they were because they were just too squished, or in too many pieces. This post, this post is about the suicidal turtles I saw for a long stretch in Oklahoma, Texas and Arkansas.
Turtles should know they can't cross a freeway. They aren't fast enough. Yet, they try to go out there and cross in search of a mate, or they go out to commit suicidal. I believe a lot of them are out there, sick of their turtle lives, sick of swimming in muck, sick of the designs on their awesome shells, wanting more but wanting nothing at all. They wait as some truck or car, not motorcycle comes rumbling by. Then they take that one step, the one that tempts that asshole person to swerve just to kill them. The turtles hope that it is fast, that their shell gets run over and crushed, that they die in an instant and not in hours.
I don't know what is so bad about being a turtle that causes them to go out and tempt fate. I was saddened by seeing so many broken and crushed turtle shells. It frustrated me that there were so many assholes that took advantage of the depressed turtles and swerved to purposefully hit them. There should be an 800 number for suicidal turtles. There should be a suicide hotline for turtles with signs on the side of the highway. Turtle suicides should be prevented. Turtles are important too.