Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Neko and I went for an innocent tromp through the meadow to the river last night. I thought I smelled something a bit putrid as we made our way through the rusty gate towards the river bank; how I heartily wish I had never found out what was causing the stink.
Stupid me decided to investigate the source of the smell before Neko did, and guess what I found? Yep, some nasty critter had dug up my poor beloved kitty Comfort, who had been resting comfortably in the peaceful grave D dug for her a few weeks ago. And said critter didn't just dig her up, oh no; said critter also had a little "al fresco" dining experience.
Apart from being ticked off that my formerly sweet kitty is now strewn all over the place instead of remaining a happy memory safely tucked under the soil, I'm mainly just grossed out. How am I going to continue my nightly walks to the river, knowing that THE REMAINS are there waiting for me? It's like a car wreck - I can't NOT look when I go by. And don't get me started on the smell.
When I relayed the gruesome tale to D later that night, he looked blank for a moment, then said, "Well, there were a lot of tree roots. I couldn't bury her very deeply."
Another lesson learned in country living: when your brother-in-law offers to incinerate your dearly departed kitty in a very cheap cremation ceremony (referred to up here as "the burn pile"), say yes.