My daughter is much braver than I am. And much more comfortable with nature. She declares that some day she will own hundreds of animals and live on a ranch or a farm, or somewhere “out in nature”. Now I love nature too…as long as it is not biting me, smelling yucky, or giving me a rash of some kind. But I do not think I want to live in it. Though I will someday gladly visit my favorite girl out in her spot of nature, wherever that may be.
This afternoon while fulfilling her chore of walking the dog out back to let him do “his business” Abigail spotted something in the driveway: something that looked an awful lot like a dead squirrel to her. Our girl is an animal lover extraordinaire, so instead of being disgusted by such a sight, she immediately felt compassion for this poor probably-not-alive creature. And sought to be certain it was actually dead before disposing of it respectfully. To which end she evidently felt she should touch its non-moving whiskers, just to be sure. And when the squirrel did not respond to this, she ascertained it was indeed, most sadly, quite dead, and should be given a proper burial.
Then, using good judgement, she decided that before she picked it up with the scooper for “doggy business” (another one of her chores) she should check with her Dad. So..she came in and casually asked him if it was ok for her to scoop up aforementioned dead squirrel to which he quickly responded in the negative. I guess he thought that wasn’t appropriate, so he did it for her. Which was really nice of him and all.
But how appropriate and/or nice do you suppose it was for him to then bring the expired animal into my kitchen where I was preparing supper just so he could show it to me?
4 Replies to “In Which I Ramble on about Death and Nature…”
As a very young child Jay was certainly fascinated by (and unafraid to handle) many creepy crawly specimens, and his grand ambition when he was around Abigail’s age was to talk to (and likely live with, I suspect) dolphins – so maybe it’s in the genes! But I don’t remember him bringing a carcass into the house, at least not one as big as a squirrel. So sorry!
Oh what a laugh! Doesn’t that just beat all!
I imagined a slow, peaceful soundtrack through that post… and a record-scratch noise followed by total silence at the end.
Peter, great comment.
Now I must set the record straight. I took a plastic bag and manfully used the bag to pick up said squirrel. I then headed for the trashcan with the dead squirrel in the bag. It just so happens that the shortest path between our driveway and our trashcan is through the laundry room and on out the front door via the kitchen and dining room (you see, our trashcan is out front while they replace our alley).
And then, of course, I had to give all the other kids a chance to see the dead squirrel (still in the bag)… so I might have gotten a bit sidetracked. But it’s not like I picked it up in the pooper scooper, walked into the kitchen, and announced I was making squirrel soup.