Lucy died. Actually it is far more tragic and eery than that. A few days ago we smelled the foulest odor of a skunk. At which point we discovered Lucy was missing. We called for her, and went looking for her, but to no avail-- she was gone. We still haven't found her, and that is the most disturbing part, but our theory is the following: She got sprayed by the skunk, and her aged, arthritic body couldn't take any more. After years of being humiliated and chased by cats and I must confess a certain lack of love-- she crawled limply on her forelegs through the briars and thorns for 500 miles, until she could no longer hear our frantic calls and collapsed in a heap of fur and blood and died in her own stench.
Pretty sad.
2 comments:
You're sick you know that? Let's be honest, she probably got run over somewhere (which is tragic, but not quite as pathetic as your story). And let's give her the benefit of the doubt, at least she probably caught up with the skunk before she bit the dust! Maybe it was something heroic involving a cougar or coyote and a baby bird? Ok, I've seen "Where the Red Fern Grows" too many times!
wow Rob, that was graphic! That is really really sad.
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