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Entry tags:
Death
Okay, this is weird. I would swear that I already wrote about this. But I can't find any entry about it. And it happened so recently that there's no way that I could be missing it.
Maybe I was thinking so hard about the entry that I forgot to actually write it?
On Saturday we took Teri to the animal shelter. As she unlocked the front gate, she pointed over to the left.
"What's that?" she asked.
I looked, and saw a broken wooden sign-post with the sign still attached, lying on top of a big rock.
"It's a broken sign, hon."
"No, what's that?"
I looked harder. On the ground next to the rock was a broken red mop handle.
"It's a broken red mop handle, hon. Lots of junk around here."
"NO. What's that thing there?" she said, repeatedly pointing at the sign and mop handle.
Suddenly a light went on in my brain, and I realized that the "rock" wasn't a rock at all - it was something large wrapped in a industrial-type grey blanket. And by "large", I mean that it was about five feet long and three feet across, roughly.
In other words, body-sized. Instantly a number of unpleasant possibilities rushed into my mind.
"Hon, take Sebastian into the shelter. Sebastian, go with Mamma."
I carefully peeled back one edge of the blanket with a stick and saw fur. It was a dead deer, a pretty good-sized one. I covered it back up, and went inside to tell Teri. She called the animal control guy. He said he was far away, but would be by later to take care of it.
About twenty minutes later I saw someone down by the gate, doing something to the deer. He was a skinny guy, with a mountain-main type beard and a red plaid coat; he looked kind of scary. He was unwrapping the deer and moving it around. A few minutes later, he came in.
The animal-control guy had sent him to see if the deer could be used as "roadkill".
"It's no good," he said, "there's a huge hole in the middle of its back and the whole thing is full of maggots. We can't eat that."
In the middle of that charming declaration I clapped my hands over Sebastian's ears, but I'm sure he heard most of it. Incidentally, the guy could clearly see that Sebastian was right there. Teri was pretty angry, but held back until the guy left.
I was getting ready to take Sebastian back to the car so we could go to the Franklin Library book sale, but just as I was about to head for the door, I had a terrible suspicion - so I peeked ahead. And sure enough, the mountain-main had left the deer totally unwrapped, in all its maggot-filled glory.
I had Sebastian stay with Teri, grabbed a pair of disposable rubber gloves, and went out to re-wrap it. The stench was unbelievable. We later found out that the deer had been left there since early Thursday or even Wednesday; the police had been informed, but they hadn't done anything about it. So it had been rotting for three or four days.
That done, Sebastian and I headed out. In the car, Sebastian started asking me about death: did cats get buried? What about cows? Did they get gravestones? The subject of cremation came up, and I explained it carefully. Then Sebastian asked what we'd done with our cat, Sam. I explained that we had "turned him into ashes", that is, cremated him. I was afraid that Sebastian would ask where the ashes were, but fortunately he didn't.
Fortunately, because the ashes are in a ceramic urn in the kitchen. I'd rather he didn't know that. He might be tempted to take a peek.
A quick stop home for the potty, and then we went to the library sale. It was great, much better than the Woonsocket sale, but time was short and we had to rush. I bought perhaps ten books, some children's books and the rest science fiction, and then we went for a quick lunch at a new restaurant, Rick's.
It's an interesting place; they serve Brigham's ice cream (which is always great), and have hamburgers, hot dogs, that sort of thing. It's a nice sit-down family restaurant. Sebastian and I sat at the counter, on stools, and had a fast lunch. Sebastian did his usual wonderful job of charming the waitresses. Then we rushed over to pick up Teri.
While we were gone, the animal control guy had arrived. He and a friend of his had picked up the deer and put it in the crematorium. Since rigor mortis had set in, he'd had to break the legs in order to stuff it into the crematorium; when he'd come out, his legs were covered with maggot-filled decomposing blood. Or so Teri told us.
On an unrelated note, we also spent the weekend playing some new CDs. I made a couple of CD compilations of They Might Be Giants songs for Sebastian, and on a whim I grabbed their first two full albums. That turned out to be a good idea; he loved hearing new TMBG songs, and some of them were instant favorites. He particularly liked "Youth Culture Killed My Dog", in part because of the Snoopy-like sound effects.
I don't remember what happened on Sunday - oh, wait, yes I do. Among other things, we drove to the Wrentham Outlets. Teri was going to start her part-time job there on Monday, and wanted to check in. We got there around 2:30, spent a little time shopping, and then went back to the car and headed home.
Or rather, we TRIED to head home. But the parking lot had turned into a literal...parking lot.
I mean, once we pulled out of our space, we literally DID NOT MOVE for more than an hour. And by the time two hours had passed, we had moved exactly one carlength, and that was because someone ahead of us had given up and pulled into a space. Everyone was really pissed off; two hours of gridlocked traffic in a parking lot? Ridiculous!
While we waited, Sebastian was very amused to see a boy, perhaps ten years old, climb a steep hill nearby and urinate; apparently he didn't realize that the long grass on the hill was poor cover, and that on the top of the hill he was in the plain sight of hundreds of cars.
A police car went by at one point, but the grapevine that had formed between cars quickly concluded that the cops weren't doing a damned thing about the traffic. We heard that there was a construction crew on 495 that had completely blocked traffic; they'd been asked to move, and had simply refused to stop working until sundown.
At sundown Teri lost her patience and turned the car around. It took us perhaps ten minutes to work our way around to the other side of the parking lot. Once we got there, though, we saw that all the traffic had started moving again; slowly, but there was definite progress. So we headed home.
Maybe I was thinking so hard about the entry that I forgot to actually write it?
On Saturday we took Teri to the animal shelter. As she unlocked the front gate, she pointed over to the left.
"What's that?" she asked.
I looked, and saw a broken wooden sign-post with the sign still attached, lying on top of a big rock.
"It's a broken sign, hon."
"No, what's that?"
I looked harder. On the ground next to the rock was a broken red mop handle.
"It's a broken red mop handle, hon. Lots of junk around here."
"NO. What's that thing there?" she said, repeatedly pointing at the sign and mop handle.
Suddenly a light went on in my brain, and I realized that the "rock" wasn't a rock at all - it was something large wrapped in a industrial-type grey blanket. And by "large", I mean that it was about five feet long and three feet across, roughly.
In other words, body-sized. Instantly a number of unpleasant possibilities rushed into my mind.
"Hon, take Sebastian into the shelter. Sebastian, go with Mamma."
I carefully peeled back one edge of the blanket with a stick and saw fur. It was a dead deer, a pretty good-sized one. I covered it back up, and went inside to tell Teri. She called the animal control guy. He said he was far away, but would be by later to take care of it.
About twenty minutes later I saw someone down by the gate, doing something to the deer. He was a skinny guy, with a mountain-main type beard and a red plaid coat; he looked kind of scary. He was unwrapping the deer and moving it around. A few minutes later, he came in.
The animal-control guy had sent him to see if the deer could be used as "roadkill".
"It's no good," he said, "there's a huge hole in the middle of its back and the whole thing is full of maggots. We can't eat that."
In the middle of that charming declaration I clapped my hands over Sebastian's ears, but I'm sure he heard most of it. Incidentally, the guy could clearly see that Sebastian was right there. Teri was pretty angry, but held back until the guy left.
I was getting ready to take Sebastian back to the car so we could go to the Franklin Library book sale, but just as I was about to head for the door, I had a terrible suspicion - so I peeked ahead. And sure enough, the mountain-main had left the deer totally unwrapped, in all its maggot-filled glory.
I had Sebastian stay with Teri, grabbed a pair of disposable rubber gloves, and went out to re-wrap it. The stench was unbelievable. We later found out that the deer had been left there since early Thursday or even Wednesday; the police had been informed, but they hadn't done anything about it. So it had been rotting for three or four days.
That done, Sebastian and I headed out. In the car, Sebastian started asking me about death: did cats get buried? What about cows? Did they get gravestones? The subject of cremation came up, and I explained it carefully. Then Sebastian asked what we'd done with our cat, Sam. I explained that we had "turned him into ashes", that is, cremated him. I was afraid that Sebastian would ask where the ashes were, but fortunately he didn't.
Fortunately, because the ashes are in a ceramic urn in the kitchen. I'd rather he didn't know that. He might be tempted to take a peek.
A quick stop home for the potty, and then we went to the library sale. It was great, much better than the Woonsocket sale, but time was short and we had to rush. I bought perhaps ten books, some children's books and the rest science fiction, and then we went for a quick lunch at a new restaurant, Rick's.
It's an interesting place; they serve Brigham's ice cream (which is always great), and have hamburgers, hot dogs, that sort of thing. It's a nice sit-down family restaurant. Sebastian and I sat at the counter, on stools, and had a fast lunch. Sebastian did his usual wonderful job of charming the waitresses. Then we rushed over to pick up Teri.
While we were gone, the animal control guy had arrived. He and a friend of his had picked up the deer and put it in the crematorium. Since rigor mortis had set in, he'd had to break the legs in order to stuff it into the crematorium; when he'd come out, his legs were covered with maggot-filled decomposing blood. Or so Teri told us.
On an unrelated note, we also spent the weekend playing some new CDs. I made a couple of CD compilations of They Might Be Giants songs for Sebastian, and on a whim I grabbed their first two full albums. That turned out to be a good idea; he loved hearing new TMBG songs, and some of them were instant favorites. He particularly liked "Youth Culture Killed My Dog", in part because of the Snoopy-like sound effects.
I don't remember what happened on Sunday - oh, wait, yes I do. Among other things, we drove to the Wrentham Outlets. Teri was going to start her part-time job there on Monday, and wanted to check in. We got there around 2:30, spent a little time shopping, and then went back to the car and headed home.
Or rather, we TRIED to head home. But the parking lot had turned into a literal...parking lot.
I mean, once we pulled out of our space, we literally DID NOT MOVE for more than an hour. And by the time two hours had passed, we had moved exactly one carlength, and that was because someone ahead of us had given up and pulled into a space. Everyone was really pissed off; two hours of gridlocked traffic in a parking lot? Ridiculous!
While we waited, Sebastian was very amused to see a boy, perhaps ten years old, climb a steep hill nearby and urinate; apparently he didn't realize that the long grass on the hill was poor cover, and that on the top of the hill he was in the plain sight of hundreds of cars.
A police car went by at one point, but the grapevine that had formed between cars quickly concluded that the cops weren't doing a damned thing about the traffic. We heard that there was a construction crew on 495 that had completely blocked traffic; they'd been asked to move, and had simply refused to stop working until sundown.
At sundown Teri lost her patience and turned the car around. It took us perhaps ten minutes to work our way around to the other side of the parking lot. Once we got there, though, we saw that all the traffic had started moving again; slowly, but there was definite progress. So we headed home.
no subject
Kiralee
no subject
Talking about eating it, and it having a huge hole in its back and being filled with maggots...well, we were afraid that would disturb Sebastian quite a bit. He knows more about death than most kids his age, but still, there are some things he's not really ready for.
He's only just turned five, after all.
no subject
... I mean there are some ethical questions about this, that I think people ought to actually think about and come to terms with... but it isn't, um, gross, and treating it as if it is... well, if it was my kid, I would think of that as making my kid vulnerable...
Kiralee
no subject
As for the deer...well, the subject has come up in the past because Teri's father hunts and eats deer. And Sebastian has seen Bambi, apparently, although I didn't know that until after the fact. So, well, we just don't want to have him deal with the ugliest side of death before he has to.
He already knows more about it than most kids, I think. We've lost our cat Sam and Teri's uncle, after all, and Sebastian had a lot of comments and questions about both (to this day).
I don't know...I never really examined this reaction on my part. I'll give it some more thought.