Some dogs take more of an interest in the filth of the world than others: rolling in things that smell, eating rotten matter, delighting in anything dead. Pucci is one of those dogs. Her new country lifestyle has supplied her with endless delicacies of this type, so it was no surprise when she came in yesterday reeking like a fermented corpse from something she had been break dancing in. I put on my rubber gloves and marched her straight over to the water pump where she got tied up and bathed. I forgot about it until she did it AGAIN a few hours later.
When it came time to close up the barn and put the chickens and Bunny Lee inside for the night, Pucci and I headed down to start the chores when I noticed she was distracted by something in the grass. There it was: a severed deer foot, several days old, tiny maggots weaving their way around the joint. Where did she get it? Where was the rest of the deer? I picked it up (with gloved hand) and threw it as far out in the pasture as I could.
This morning I came out from the barn and saw her way out in the field where I threw the foot, wagging her tail, chewing.
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