“I’m not petting snapping turtles,” I say, lowering my leg to the floor. “I only want to pet the cute ones.” He passes me a bottle of shampoo from the ledge. “Oh, so the ugly ones don’t get any love from you? They’re left out all alone, cold, un-petted?” I frown deeply. He’s right. I should pet all of them. Even the scary ones. “Okay, I’ll pet the snapping turtles, but only if someone holds their muzzle.”
