Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Most of the winter and all of this spring I've been watching a dead deer.  No, I didn't expect her to jump up and do a dance while wearing tight shiny pants, (like a pirate of Penzance)

I guess I've just been watching it dehydrate.  Most of the time, a dead deer will be eaten...we've all seen a dozen crows dive bombing a squished caterpillar during rush hour on the interstate, right? The black bastards will fly in, grab a bite and either hop off to the side as you approach, or fly away, just barely missing being made into road kill himself.

I have not gotten out to inspect this dead deer, I just glance at it and notice that it is shrinking.  I don't see any evidence of anything eating this damn thing.  Maybe it is too far off the road?  No, I watched a different dead deer totally disappear, and it was well off the road.  That was kind of neat, watching first a small hole appear and the guts disappear, watching the leg bones materialize from the brown then red coverings, seeing the rib bones gleaming in the sun, then the leg bones vanishing during the night.  Who stole the leg bones, a dog?  A fox? A coyote?  A wolf???  Probably not a wolf.

One morning as I was driving the bus towards school, I observed 2 bald eagles perched on a dead deer, enjoying some breakfast.  Or maybe it was lunch...with eagles, you never can tell.  You sure can't ask them, either.  Have you ever tried to get a simple questioned answered by a bald eagle?  Honestly, I bet none of you constant readers have ever gotten a letter or email, or even a text message from one of those bald bastards.  They're not really bald, either, like a vulture is, they're just mocking the people that are bald.  That'd piss me off, so it's good that I'm not bald yet.

One haircut girl assured me that I would not go bald, either....I assume she was trying to get a better tip.  Here's a tip for you, haircut girl....to get a better tip from me, you have to get those boobs displayed a little more prominently.  Or rub your thighs on my arm.  That might do it, might not.  Depends on the legs.  OH, a ZZTop song.  Distractions.  Maybe I do have that ADD thing. I am not hyperactive, that's for damn sure.

Here's a linky all you need to know about vultures.  Learn something every day, that's my motto.  That and insult someone, or even better:  irritate a liberal.  Just in case you're a lazy bastard and can't be bothered to clicky the linky, here's a paragraph as to exactly why they have a bald head.  No, it's not a solar panel for a sex machine.

There is an important purpose to the vulture's bald head.  When the vulture is eating carrion, it must often stick its head inside the carcass to reach the meat. A feathery head would capture unwanted pieces of the vulture's meal (just like food can stick in men's beards), along with all the bacteria such pieces would host. The bald head, ultimately, is a matter of hygiene for vultures.


5 or 6 pounds is all that a healthy adult vulture weighs.  And if you want to know the difference between vultures and buzzards, you have to read the web site linky I've so generously provided.


Honestly, I expected to not see that deer after the first snowstorm after it was killed there at that intersection.  I figgered that the snow plow would blast it into the middle of the ditch or that someone would pick it up and haul it away, like they did on Dirty Jobs.


And that reminds me:  One fine warm day I was driving the bus home from school, came back down a culdesac, stopped at the stop sign.  There was a car on the other side that was not there when I went up the culdesac, and the driver was getting out.  I paused to see what he was going to do.  He walked down the road a short distance to where there was a dead opossum.  He bent over, picked it up by the hair, carried it off the road and into the ditch.  The kids looked to see why we weren't going, and watched this occur.  The girls really groaned/squeaked/whatever when he wiped his hands on his pants, which prompted me to say:  "Imagine what you'd have thought/done if he'd licked his fingers".  


This pretty well sums up my dead deer bloggy episode.  Check back to see if I've added more.

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