I had one bite me in the arse when I was 12. I was standing on a half broken rock dam, actually up to me knees in water, and fishing for sun fish in a lily pad pool. Was a really good spot—small, so not fished much there. Some pumpkinseeds were as big as a large man’s hand.
Anyway I leaned my backside up to the broken rock wall, and there laid Mr. Snapper awaiting my skinny butt. He actually got the end of my cutoffs rather than any flesh but scared me half to death.
I went up and off that damn with him hanging on for at least 100 yards!
My friends Dad (who owned the property killed it and made turtle soup.
I walked in a park near my office at lunch. The park had a very small creek . I noticed there were several hen mallards with ducklings in this very urban place
Down the length of my walk, I counted 26 ducklings. As time went by the number decreased alarmingly. . I remarked about the decline to a man who was there a lot. He told me he had witnessed ducklings being sucked down by the Snappers.
Like the ducks, the snappers had adapted to this urban park