The Snapper Who Loved Classical Music
Several ancient snapping turtles inhabit our three-acre pond out in cornfield country near Machias, New York.  Weighing at least 30 pounds, after several decades of chomping pond weeds, minnows, and probably a few Canada goose eggs, the snappers seldom leave our pond.  When they do, however, they look absolutely prehistoric, with encrusted shells and massive jaws.  We see them climb out once in a while in late spring when fertility prompts them to find a sandy or moist spot to dig holes and lay eggs.  Perhaps in part they are just enjoying the sunshine and freedom from the dingy pond bottom.
     One big snapper regularly decides to take a swim in our pool.  It is nearly impossible to lift her out with either a pool net or shovel as she is so heavy.  It is also risky business.  She gets testy and bites our tools with her threatening mandibles.  By sheer, happy coincidence, we discovered a solution.
      One day we happened to tune in some classical music on the poolside portable radio.  Leaving the pool and returning a little later, we found our snapper had negotiated the pool stairs and had nestled up to the table beneath the radio.  From there we could sort of push and roll her 50 yards back down to the pond.  Nearly every day she  returned for her pool swim.  Inspired by our discovery, we entertained her by playing classical music.  It worked like a charm every time.  She would find her way to the radio, but strangely enough, she would not respond at all either to rock and roll or to western music.  We speculate it was the violins that appealed to her.
     Mean and homely as she certainly was, Mrs. Snapper had a unique affinity for music, and we had a reliable way to prevent the worry of climbing into our  pool with a 30 hard-boiled gal looking up from the depths.