Every Once In A While, I Weird Myself Out

"Hey, so what kinds of things are you going to be writing about on your blog?"
"Oh, you know, some of the ridiculous things I do as a reptile keeper. Some of it'll be informational, sometimes photo posts, sometimes silly stories or really weird things I've done."
"I saw that little turtle picture, that's pretty cute."
"Haha, yeah, he was."
"Don't have him anymore?"
"Not... really... I have part of him. I kept the shell."
"...How do you get the shell off of a turtle?"

Let's start by establishing that this turtle was a rescue; someone bought their kid a 1" turtle from Chinatown, and - after finding out that not only are they a health hazard (especially for kids), but they're also illegal, it was abandoned at the store.

Me being me, I took it home.

I got him set up appropriately, took him outdoors to get his UV exposure, all that good stuff - and yet, unfortunately, never could get him to eat.

As seems to occur when unfortunate events stack up, our tiny turtle didn't make it for very long.

Which brings us back to, "...How do you get the shell off a turtle?"

(Weak of stomach, turn back now.)

The initial response was to take the body and place it outside, near a colony of ants; the ants then strip away everything but the bones, and you're left with a pretty awesome skeleton. The ants, however, have had a habit in the past of walking off with little pieces that I wanted; I wasn't willing to sacrifice to them this particular collection of bones.

Next option? Boil it.

I will save you the gory details, but rest assured, I will never be doing that again.

On the first count, it absolutely reeks. I don't think I've ever smelled anything so foul as a boiling turtle. Even in the only port-a-potty at the fair. In the middle of a marathon. On a hot day. In India.

On the second count, it's a turtle. That died for uncertain reasons. The health hazards of keeping a regular live turtle near things you eat with are high, never mind a dead one, when you don't know exactly what it was that killed it. The amount of scrubbing and disinfecting that ensued was pure ridiculousness.

So, being that I couldn't stand the smell long enough for the boiling process to be particularly effective, that left me final option.

Manual removal.

For those of you that don't know, turtles are attached to their shells; while it varies from species to species on how the shell is actually constructed and how much 'shell reduction' has gone on, we'll basically say that their spine is fused to the inside of the shell. (Poke around here for some more highly informative stuff regarding turtles, tortoises, and their shells: http://reptilis.net/2009/01/21/t-u-r-t-l-e-power-part-1-turtles-are-weird/)

Using some very unorthodox methods, will power, and stubborn 'I CAN DO THIS' concentration, I pried my turtle from his shell with...

An old fondue-fork-like-object.

And scissors.

...I apologize.

I justify it only with morbid curiosity, and the intense desire to have a tiny little turtle shell of my own.

...It did work. Sort of.

And that's some of the sort of thing you'll be reading about on this blog.