Wednesday, January 07, 2004

I finally got out of the house today to take Billy and Spoon to the beach before they turned on us from being cooped up for so long.
I'm sorry to report that the large rotting seal carcass Spoon (and probably a thousand other dogs) discovered last week was still there, decomposing away. When she spotted it last week she approached it cautiously at first, but when she realized what it was it was like the gates of heaven had opened up for her and she did a diving shoulder roll into it, snapped back by her leash inches before she could coat herself in the rancid blubber. Billy was thankfully too absorbed in his tennis ball to notice.
Elizabeth had alerted the park service last week but the attractive nuisance remains, although some Samaritans had piled a couple of discarded Christmas trees over it for piney freshness.

It reminds me of a story my friend Mike Tomlison told me about his grandmother, who was a bit of a hellion. When she was a little girl a whale carcass washed up on the beach of her town. She climbed up on top of the whale and jumped up and down on top of it shouting, "Look at me! Look at me!" until she suddenly burst through the skin and found herself chin deep in putrid fat.

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