For those of you following my life story on Facebook, you know that the stench we've had under the house has been making me crazy, and frankly, possibly killing me slowly. I can't prove that since I am still alive, but I believe the smell was killing my body and soul. Luckily, one of my friends took mercy upon my rotting soul and sent her husband, Super Rodent Dude, to save me from my certain slow death from dead carcass inhalation. Super Rodent Dude was able to locate the dead something and it wasn't a rat as we had originally suspected, it was an opossum. It had crawled up inside the insulation under the house and was marinating between the insulation and the kitchen floor.
I will forever remember Super Rodent Dude, gallantly standing at my front door in his super rodent fighting attire as he said, "it's not a rat...do you have large trash bags?" I sat there in horror as my mind considered what it could be. A cat? A racoon? A person (the ol man)? I asked what it was, he said, "a possum, a big one." I sent Shark Bait out with bags and told him to give Super Rodent Dude a hand with that. He started to give me a pout, but I gave him the look. I asked for pictures, but I was denied. I needed to be at peace with this rotting thing, but not enough to go outside and see it myself. A picture would do.
Anyway, I finally got relief from the smell of death and I am eternally grateful to Super Rodent Dude and his wife, Mrs. SRD. I don't think it's too dramatic to say, they saved my life. I need to bake them cookies or something. I'll pay it forward somehow.
Tonight, as I came home and opened the door I wasn't assaulted by the smell of rotting mystery rodent. It was refreshing. But then, I considered our friend, the possum. I felt somewhat connected to him and his maggot infested body. He was basically "soup inside of skin" when we officially met him. What did we really know about him, aside from the fact that he did not age well, once dead? We knew nothing. Sad. I decided he needed a name. Let's call him Stinky Malone. He deserved that much. All he really wanted was a warm place to sleep, and then just like that, he died. Did Stinky have a family? It's highly likely he had kids, I mean, let's be honest, I've seen his kind before. Surely, he had swooned many young impressionable females. Why did the possum cross the road? To get to Stinky and all that Stinky had to offer. It's safe to say that likely many of his children have been killed on the road or by some other animal. I do know that it's also likely that some of his offspring are having a 2AM romp on the rooftop of a garage somewhere making sweet possum love under the moonlight. I've seen it, and sadly have been wakened by it. I think I blogged about the time Shark Bait was buck-naked hanging out the bedroom window shooting his Daisy Red Ryder be-be gun at two possums on our roof that were going at it like big time porn...shit, maybe this two week possum stench was our come-uppins for doing that! Karma isn't a bitch, it's a dead possum! Sure possum fornication is gross to us, but to them, it's even better than muskrat love. I've never witnessed muskrats doing the deed, so I can't compare in all honestly, I'm merely speculating at this point.
Back to Stinky. I think that if I knew anything about Stinky at all, he lived a full life. I mostly know this because he was ten to twelve pounds. We can't know the percentage of his body weight that was maggots vs actual muscle mass, but let's not judge. He's dead for crying out loud. Do you want someone judging your BMI as you lay there dead? I didn't think so.
Now, another thing, I don't want to borrow trouble, but I have to hope that Stinky doesn't haunt us. Can animals haunt you? I mean, we put him in a trash bag. We DOUBLE-bagged him. On a side note, I would have liked to have seen the trash dude's face today. Stinky didn't get his name for wearing perfume, if you know what I mean. That just made me smile. Does that make me a bad person? Anyway, I really hope Stinky doesn't haunt us. And, furthermore, I hope his family doesn't come looking for him.
I think maybe this weekend, in honor of Stinky, Shark Bait and I will have a little party for him or something. Like, Shark Bait, the wiener dogs and myself will just light a candle (scented of course) raise a glass, and salute his smelly life...and his smelly death. We might even eat some cheese and crackers and then run out across the driveway in front of cars a few times under the moon light. If anyone wants to join me, let me know. You don't even have to shower, you know, in honor of Stinky.
RIP, Stinky. I hope you enjoy your perfect burial at the county dump. May you rot with many of the things that you once ate. I hope the maggots are happy there, too.
A moment of silence, please...
Thank you.
I will forever remember Super Rodent Dude, gallantly standing at my front door in his super rodent fighting attire as he said, "it's not a rat...do you have large trash bags?" I sat there in horror as my mind considered what it could be. A cat? A racoon? A person (the ol man)? I asked what it was, he said, "a possum, a big one." I sent Shark Bait out with bags and told him to give Super Rodent Dude a hand with that. He started to give me a pout, but I gave him the look. I asked for pictures, but I was denied. I needed to be at peace with this rotting thing, but not enough to go outside and see it myself. A picture would do.
Anyway, I finally got relief from the smell of death and I am eternally grateful to Super Rodent Dude and his wife, Mrs. SRD. I don't think it's too dramatic to say, they saved my life. I need to bake them cookies or something. I'll pay it forward somehow.
Tonight, as I came home and opened the door I wasn't assaulted by the smell of rotting mystery rodent. It was refreshing. But then, I considered our friend, the possum. I felt somewhat connected to him and his maggot infested body. He was basically "soup inside of skin" when we officially met him. What did we really know about him, aside from the fact that he did not age well, once dead? We knew nothing. Sad. I decided he needed a name. Let's call him Stinky Malone. He deserved that much. All he really wanted was a warm place to sleep, and then just like that, he died. Did Stinky have a family? It's highly likely he had kids, I mean, let's be honest, I've seen his kind before. Surely, he had swooned many young impressionable females. Why did the possum cross the road? To get to Stinky and all that Stinky had to offer. It's safe to say that likely many of his children have been killed on the road or by some other animal. I do know that it's also likely that some of his offspring are having a 2AM romp on the rooftop of a garage somewhere making sweet possum love under the moonlight. I've seen it, and sadly have been wakened by it. I think I blogged about the time Shark Bait was buck-naked hanging out the bedroom window shooting his Daisy Red Ryder be-be gun at two possums on our roof that were going at it like big time porn...shit, maybe this two week possum stench was our come-uppins for doing that! Karma isn't a bitch, it's a dead possum! Sure possum fornication is gross to us, but to them, it's even better than muskrat love. I've never witnessed muskrats doing the deed, so I can't compare in all honestly, I'm merely speculating at this point.
Back to Stinky. I think that if I knew anything about Stinky at all, he lived a full life. I mostly know this because he was ten to twelve pounds. We can't know the percentage of his body weight that was maggots vs actual muscle mass, but let's not judge. He's dead for crying out loud. Do you want someone judging your BMI as you lay there dead? I didn't think so.
Now, another thing, I don't want to borrow trouble, but I have to hope that Stinky doesn't haunt us. Can animals haunt you? I mean, we put him in a trash bag. We DOUBLE-bagged him. On a side note, I would have liked to have seen the trash dude's face today. Stinky didn't get his name for wearing perfume, if you know what I mean. That just made me smile. Does that make me a bad person? Anyway, I really hope Stinky doesn't haunt us. And, furthermore, I hope his family doesn't come looking for him.
I think maybe this weekend, in honor of Stinky, Shark Bait and I will have a little party for him or something. Like, Shark Bait, the wiener dogs and myself will just light a candle (scented of course) raise a glass, and salute his smelly life...and his smelly death. We might even eat some cheese and crackers and then run out across the driveway in front of cars a few times under the moon light. If anyone wants to join me, let me know. You don't even have to shower, you know, in honor of Stinky.
RIP, Stinky. I hope you enjoy your perfect burial at the county dump. May you rot with many of the things that you once ate. I hope the maggots are happy there, too.
A moment of silence, please...
Thank you.
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