Writer - Gerald Yelle
I was taking my dog for a walk the other day when it gave birth to a turtle. “What the heck,” I said. “I was expecting, maybe a turd, but a turtle?” My dog looked at me and licked my hand.
“Oh, all right,” I said and picked up the turtle. All this water was coming out of its shell, I think it was frightened. It wasn’t even a baby turtle. I think it had wax all over its back. “Turtle wax,” I thought. “Hunh.”
The next day I took the turtle our for a walk because my dog was busy building a doghouse for himself. I don’t know how he does it. I don’t let him use nails. He doesn’t even know how to hold a hammer.
I think he just likes wasting time. He should be walking his own stinking turtle. I never liked turtles.
I’m not even sorry about it. Touché Turtle. Tutor Turtle –all the lamest cartoons when I was a kid were about turtles. Bugs Bunny was a million times better than any turtle who beat him in a race.
Some turtles live to be hundreds of years old. So I guess they deserve some respect, but I’m sorry. I just can’t muster it.
Hm –a turtle sandwich, with mustard. The next day I tried it. Delicious. My dog looked at me. He licked my hand.
“No you can’t have a bite,” I said. “This turtle was your child. What’s the matter with you anyway?”