It was a warm summer afternoon in our hometown of Augusta, Kansas. Jack Watson and I were standing on the steel bridge at the southeast edge of town. This bridge over the Walnut River was pretty high, maybe 20 feet above the water. On the upriver side of the bridge was a small dam with a notch in its cap that let the river spill into the pool beneath it. The area beneath the bridge and for a few yards downstream seemed to be a breeding ground for snapping turtles as we never failed to see some of them when they surfaced along the edges. If we were able to pot one of them and then get it out of the water, we would take it over to a nearby farm and give it to a lady who lived there. She had a bunch of kids and would cook up a turtle feast for them. A couple of times, she shared a cooked piece with us. Yes, it tastes just like chicken.

On the downriver side of the bridge, there was a patch of land that was part of Glen  Lietzke’s farm. Jack and I, with our .22 rifles in hand, were watching for snapping turtles when we saw movement in the weeds on the Lietzke property. As we watched, two feral cats came slinking out of the weeds and went to the water’s edge. Without hesitation, they stepped into the water and began swimming across the river. We were both floored! Whoever heard of a cat swimming? We watched in amazement as they expertly swam across the river. When they got to the other side, they shook themselves off and entered a gulley that took them up the bank. This had all been done in a calm and direct manner as if it happened every day. We had certainly learned something about a cat’s will to adapt and survive.

Dave Thomas

12/31/2025