The day of the turtle has come.

Turtle Logic

This has become a pet phrase, coined because of a specific story, that has become a reference point in ongoing conversations…

Why did you put a large, live snapping turtle in the garbage can?
Well, it was too big for a bucket, and after the Catfish Incident we knew Mom didn’t like us to bring live things into the bathtub.

You can’t get here from there.
Because there is no “there” there.
There was no goal “Let’s get a turtle so we can put it in the garbage!”

There was only the afternoon, and a string of decisions, step by step, motivated by the hundred small fascinations and logics and experiences that are all a small boy has to go on. Hunger and fascination and outrage and determination and respect for the rules... and utter disregard for other rules...

We were fishing, getting real close to our limit…. “all you can catch plus one.” and there was a tug on the line, and half our fish disappeared.
We wondered about it, and when it happened again, we decided to see who was tugging.
We put a big hook on the line, along with a whole 'nother fish, and then it jerked again and we hauled and there was an enormous snapping turtle glaring at us as if we’d deliberately spoiled his lunch.

He had a set of jaws that could break a broomstick.

Easily.

Several large twigs later, we wanted to try him out on a real broomstick, but we couldn't really carry him the whole way home. So we got one of those big wire-framed shopping carts, and loaded him in, and pushed and pulled him along the path.
It was a bumpy ride, and we thought he needed to be in some water again.
He wouldn’t fit in a bucket. (He was about 30” diameter, or almost too big for two boys to lift without getting bit.)
The only thing we could think of, that was big enough for him to dive and surface to breath, was the 33-gallon trash can by the side of the house.
So we filled that two-thirds full with water, and tipped him in.

We put the lid on good and tight, ‘cause he still looked angry.

After dinner, it was time for bed.

Small boys don’t tend to notice things that happen every night after they are already in bed. Like the trash disappears from the kitchen. Trash disappearing is somehow not mysterious. Perhaps this is due to an absence of breaking broomsticks.

This night, like many other nights, happened to be a night when Mom took out the trash.
All Mom had to do was lay her hand on the lid, and that turtle was hurtling at it – ringing the lid like a gong, and scattering Mom back to her primeval instincts.

Turns out she liked having live things swimming in the trash can even less than she liked having live things swimming in the bathtub.

Especially live things that weren’t good to eat. (We lucked out with the Catfish by comparison.)

So much of civilization seems to be built on turtle-logic.

Turtle-logic is what makes us take out a loan to prop up a business that is already losing money.
Turtle-logic is what leads us to take on a second job to pay for the car we need to get to the first job.

Turtle-logic is solving one problem at a time, single-mindedly, without regard to the other problems that may be created in the process.

Uncle Henry logic, if you prefer:
Uncle Henry thinks he’s a chicken.
Why don’t you take him to see a psychiatrist?
We would, only we need the eggs.