...well, half the cat. I let Gunner out of his kennel this morning and turned him loose in our yard while I ran to the gym for my morning workout. My doggy friend was waiting for me when I returned -- I patted him on the head and came in. By the time I walked from the garage to the living room, he was standing at the front door-- tongue and tail a-wagging. I started to open the door to let him in, when I noticed something. Something dead. Actually, the front half of something dead. Gunner had tracked down his rancid kitty toy and dragged it back to our front porch. What happened to the other half you may wonder?
I don't know.
And I'm not sure I want to know.
Andy's conveniently out of town so, tempting as it was to leave the carcass there adorning our front porch until he gets back, I had to deal with it. Clearly whatever he had done with the thing the last two times had not put it out of Gunner's reach. I was going to have to be a little more thorough than tossing it back into the wilderness. I got a shovel and a garbage bag and shoveled the cat into the bag. Then I weighed my options:
1. The garbage can with the lid on tight.
2. Dig a deep hole and bury it.
3. Swing it around my head as fast as I could and let it fly up, up and away.
I couldn't stand the thought of the garbage reeking until Friday morning--it's supposed to be hot this week.
I don't think I could bury it deep enough to keep the smell from reaching Gunner's nose--and he's a pretty good digger himself being a dog and all.
The last one--well--I really couldn't do that in good conscience. It might land in a neighbor's yard or on their roof or even hit someone in the head. Funny maybe but not nice.
I decided to tie the bag tightly and set it in the trailer of yard debris waiting to go to the dump. It's out of Gunner's reach and away from the house.
Let's hope no one lets the cat out of the bag.
PS: Here's the song that has been running through my head all day:
"The Cat Came Back"