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A friend of my Dad's saved him when he found him trying to cross a road, so he gave him to my Dad - for us kids. We kept him for awhile until my Dad decided he deserved a better home, so we took him to a local artist's colony - far from any roads, with woods and a stream - and let him go. My last memory was of the turtle dipping his head in the water, seemed to be enjoying his new surroundings. I like to think he's still there. 
When I was in school, I worked during the summers at an amusement park and the management was all freaked out about the occasional snapping turtle in the "river" where we ran the swan boats - they were afraid of lawsuits. When I heard that they caught one and planned to destroy it, I made a big fuss so my boss (nice guy and he liked me) put it in a box, punched holes in the top and handed it to me.
So I called my Dad, who I knew would sympathize, who came to get me - said he'd found the perfect new home for the turtle, a spot on the water where there was a whole colony. We did that numerous times over that summer, my boss would call me over, hand me the boxed up turtle and I'd call my Dad. "My" turtles weren't all that big...
And the amusing part was the location - it was right off the beach of the local country club, where my Dad was a member. 
Thank You Rhiannon!
Thank You Rhiannon!
If they have, someone would have noticed by now! Mine weren't that big, less than a foot long I think, and one was so little that I hated to leave him, kept going back and checking on him... 
Thank You Rhiannon!
I gave my Dad a hard time about belonging there anyway - he hated golf! He'd have dinner there - or sit on the beach!
Thank You Rhiannon!
