Friday evening, when I’d first gotten home from work and let the dogs out, they were barking around the shed like crazy, so I figured they were after something living under it, but didn’t think too much of it.
Anything under there would have to be smart enough to stay put, right?
Yeah, not so much.
Later, when Shrike got home, we went to let them in, and BigGaloot was carrying around something furry . . . and . . . limp, and . . . bloody.
I told Shrike, “I don’t think that’s his teddy bear.”
She went out to check and, sure enough, it was a partially-disassembled groundhog.
Somehow, she got him to drop it and come in, and she told me that she’d go out and dispose of it in the morning, before letting them out.
Yesterday morning, I asked her if she’d gotten rid of it and she said, “Um, I didn’t have to. There wasn’t anything left.”
(Evidently, they’d been outside with it for a while before she checked.)
“Did he eat it? Are you sure he didn’t just bury it for later?” I asked.
“Well, I suppose that’s possible,” she admitted.
Later, we were getting ready to go out and do some shopping, and Shrike went out in the yard to bring the dogs in.
I noticed her looking at something on the ground, so I went to check it out.
Near each other on the ground lay what seemed to be the three remaining parts of Mr. Groundhog:
- About 2 feet of intestines
- A tail (this was actually kind of cute, in a Davy Crockett hat kind of way)
- Something that, while we can’t be sure, we strong suspect might have been its penis
While we were out there, Galoot picked up the possible penis, which we were both totally squicked out about. But then, he dropped it, and had no interest in actually eating it.
That’s kind of wierd, dontcha think? It was almost like he knew what it was.
(Or, maybe it wasn’t, but that’s what it looked like to us. Not that we’re experts or anything . . . .)
As it turns out, those weren’t actually the only parts left, because later that evening, when we were asleep (with the clock set for my midnight shot) we suddenly heard a “crunch, crunch, crunch” sound coming from beside the bed.
Shrike wanted to ignore it, but I figured that, groundhog bones or not, nothing that crunches that loudly is good for him to be chewing on.
Shrike managed to bribe him with a hotdog and get him outside, so she could dispose of it, but didn’t look at it closely enough to identify exactly what it was.
Later, when we were both up and wide awake for the shot, she went into the bedroom for something and came back carrying what looked to be a piece of a rib.
There’s really nothing quite like have the circle of life happening right in your own backyard.