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Tuesday, May 3, 2016

WTF - Operation Possum Soup

For those new here, we live in a very small town. You can open your front door, yell out a secret and it's on the front page of the town paper the next day.

Yes, word travels fast.

And it travels efficiently.

Our home is considered a vacation paradise, meaning around 350 people live here full time, the rest own vacation homes. Some open only for escaping the heat of summer, while others simply for the local ski resort for winter. Then there's us, we love it all!!

Needless to say, there are vacant homes around us, some for sale, some just sitting there, for years!

One such house is my neighbor, whom I'll call the Vacant/IsItForSale house.

I was on my daily run as I pass the Vacant/IsItForSale house I noticed a smell that brought me to my knees.

My years of watching CSI kicked into gear, am I finally going to be that jogger finding a dead body?

Do I want to find a dead body so close to my house?

Where are my kids? They were fighting when I left.

This smell was not a freshly dead body, so my kids were safe. This smell was the grab you by the collar of your shirt smack you in the face till you cry kind of smell.

The stuff nightmares are made of.  And you know I had to investigate.

First clue, "Wow! Look at that huge cloud of black flies in VacantHouse/IsItForSale's garbage, could it be there?


I walk a little closer, listening to the hum of the flies, putting my hand over my nose, my own sweat smells better than this smell.

I take a little peak over the edge of a trash can.  Oh.

Poor Peter Possum must have looked in this garbage can say maybe 3-4 weeks ago for something tasty and fell in. I remember someone at the house fixing something, did they put the lid on it?

Well the lid is off and there is a nice brown Possum soup in the trash can the flies are feasting on.

I can't take the trash can anywhere, my car is too small and the smell, oh, that smell.

So I do what a good neighbor does, I call the city, disguising my voice so I sound like Pee Wee Herman, "Herro, there is a terrible smelling dead animal in the vacation house at 1030 FoulSmelling Lane. I'm not the neighbor, I'm just a concerned citizen reporting this."

I thought my acting debut was perfect, then wonder how long will it sit there? Didn't I read a story about a memorial in Canada to a dead raccoon the city wouldn't come pick up for 30DAYS? (Hilarious story, if you want to read it click Here) I'm thinking we could have an outdoor service (can't do indoor, the smell) then a dedication to Possum Soup trash can.

To my amazement, my utility dollars are well spent, the city trash truck comes around the bend the next day, a day ahead normal trash pickup stoping at Vacant/IsItForSale house.

I feel bad calling it in, hiding behind the railing of my deck watching three men get out of the truck. Yes, it will take three men to figure out what to do, the smell is that bad.

They get to the trash can and I swear I see one almost go to his knees (like me) while the other two step away from the black cloud of flies having a party, their hands on their noses (maybe they didn't believe PeeWee Herman, I mean me when I called it in)

I'm sure they are having a serious discussion on who gets the pleasure of touching the trash can, until it looks like one of them seems to say "F*ck it" grabbing the trash can and throwing it in the garbage truck.  Bye Bye Peter. I hear the truck churn and churn for a good ten minutes, hoping that maybe they picked up a bunch of laundry sheets helping Peter get his proper burial.

They pull the can back out and toss it in the trash bid. I'm sure all the flies are buzzing around going, "What? What happened? Where's the buffet?"

Thank you, Thank you my heroes, the utility workers, you braved something I couldn't handle and came out with your heads held high and no possum juice on your hands!

By the way, I'll be stopping by with pizza tomorrow as a thank you because you see, I run that road almost every single day.

OK, back to looking for my dead body.

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