Since I drove my car home one month and one week ago, I have become increasingly melancholy about the number of animals killed on our streets and highways. Fluffy raccoon ears might be all that’s recognizable of a varmint that just wanted to get to the other side. Skunks, ground hogs, squirrels: no wonder so many hawks and crows circle above major roads and highways.
But what was the thing in the Blackwell Trails leash-free dog field?
Two days ago, Espresso loped away to a pile of guts. He stood there so long that I went over to see what was so interesting. And it was a small alimentary canal. A wormy, long section of small intestine, a plump section full of poop, and what I guess were two lungs, from the white and pink colours. No skeleton. No skin. No head. No teeth, no beak. No limbs. No hint of feather, or fur, or claw, or nail. No blood. You’d need two spread hands to pick it up. Which I didn’t.
Gutted and laid out neatly is what I think is the weirdest thing.
And the best thing is that my dog didn’t mess with these odd remains.
He waited until we went back yesterday and he rolled in what was left at the spot.
For a very long time in Western Europe, soap was made with animal fat and ashes. Lye, fat, ashes. Gentler, expensive Castille soap was made with olive oil, and – unlike those coarse soaps made for house and barn cleaning – was made for persons.
Thank you, soap, gentle soap.
I performed a spot-wash, and will now hug my dog again.
Neither of us know how to explain The Guts in the Blackwell Trails Leash-free Dog Field mystery.
I hope it was a one-off. For the little creature, and dog-rolling.