So, after reading the blog of one of your fellow readers, I was reminded of some "fun" I had last week.
Like many of you homeowners with lawns have discovered, lawns are
As I was pulling the mower out of the shed, I noticed that my Saint Bernard had followed me out, and was sniffing around in the overgrown clover nearby. After about three seconds of nose-investigation, he then flopped over onto his side and began rubbing his body into the clover. He continued, rolling over onto his back, with all four legs in the air, but still grinding his body into the clover. He concluded the puppy-like display of happiness by flipping to his other side and wriggling around some more.
That's cute, I thought, he still has a puppy's heart and despite his old age, he really just want's to frolic in the clover until h ... wait. What's going on?
He had completed his little happy "dance" and was now standing up and sniffing the ground again. In the EXACT same spot as before. Odd. My subconcious floated the theory that perhaps there was something on the ground there.
Oh, you little son of a ... If you're rolling around in your own fecal matter I'm going to g...
My thoughts evaporated as I shooed the dog away and began looking for the offending turd that he had been trying to body-slam.
Oh THERE it is ... No, wait. That's not dog poo. What the fu¢k IS that?!?!
After I fetched a good poking stick, and shooed the dog away again, I began my CSI-like investigation of the clover.
"Oh you nasty, NASTY fu¢ker! You're getting a bath first thing tomorrow. And sleeping outside tonight!"
I'm not sure (I really couldn't tell) what creature originally housed them, but my Saint Bernard had been rolling around in a tiny pile of half-eaten critter guts. I could see small intestine and what I believe to be a singular kidney or a liver. I assume all the rest of the evidence was eaten.
The next morning, I discovered that no amount of dog shampoo can wash away some mental images.
