It’s not that I’m trying to find these guys, really it’s not. But I keep doing it. Amidst all this rainy, lousy, unrelentingly gray weather here in Atlanta, I came across another turtle wandering far from home.

This one, lost in the parking lot at my school.

We’ll say nothing of the fact that I was caught out by the football stadium in a downpour that I could literally see coming as it rushed down the highway, shooting the valley in between the trees. We won’t even talk about the subsequent fact that I had to spend the rest of the day in damp shirt and tie, explaining to my colleagues and students that yes, in fact, I was outside during that cloudburst and no, there really wasn’t anywhere for me to wait it out; I just had to hightail it for the school building, a mere 400 yards away.

But more to the point, JUST LOOK AT THAT THING. It was about the size of a quarter, and so small that there was no way for me to photograph it sitting on my hand without my hand looking freakishly huge and misshapen by contrast. The moment after I snapped that picture, it peed all over me (though to be fair, the release of turtle urine could have filled maybe a quarter of a thimble).

Needless to say, I scooped him up out of the parking lot where he sat fifty yards from anything green and spirited him off to the edge of the woods, where I can only hope his chances of surviving in nature are a little bit better.

This is the second turtle I’ve rescued in a month.

I am starting to wonder if they are starting to find me.