The End of an Era

Today was my last day of picking up roadkill.

I was half hoping for some grossly disgusting carcass to generate an interesting final story... but no luck. Today was a busy day and some calls were pretty messy, but nothing really that outstanding in comparison with the rest of my summer. I'm staying on for the next month to help with getting dogs licensed but I can't see that being nearly as exciting to write about.

Sadly there are still so many untold stories. I tried my best to keep this updated but some things just happened so often that I didn't think to write about them at the time.

For example, getting stuck in the Freezer of Death.

So the freezer's pretty big (to fit lots of dead things in, sometimes including deer) and you have to walk into it. Carcasses get stored until there's enough for a load to be cremated. It's kind of like doing laundry... you don't throw a lone pair of socks into the machine to be washed. (And of course by washed I mean incinerated and by socks I mean dead squirrels).

Problem being that the door to the Freezer shuts behind you, not often opening on your first push. It can be rather unnerving to be there...

In a freezer
Full of dead animals
Alone
Unable to get out.

Ah, some things never got old. No matter how many times it happened, there was always the brief flash of panic when the door would shut behind me with a dull thud.

Keeps you on your toes!

Well, that's all for now! We'll see if any stories generate themselves from licensing!

Ghost of Employment Future?

Ah, fall is in the air!

...for those of us who are still around to breath it in anyway...

Anyone living in a university town has likely noticed the students starting to file in and this, sadly, is my first September not being one of them. It's been 18 years since September meant back-to-school and it feels surreal not to be a part of it.

For the last few weeks I have been intently wishing that I was going back to university and today I got my wish and got to go back to university... but it wasn't really what I had in mind. You see, there was a dead cat near one of the university buildings and so off I went.

I pull up next to the cat, get out, and start filling out the card in case someone reports it missing (general stuff like location, colourings, estimated age, any tags, gender, etc).

Cue cute university boy to enter the scene.

He walks across the street, smiles, nods, starts with "Hey there" and continues on making general small talk. Initial thought: oh this oughta be good.

Not wanting to be rude I respond with a polite hello and mentally begin the countdown.

5...

He definitely has not noticed that I am standing beside a very dead cat.

4...

In fact, my right foot is no more than a 2-3 inches from what's left of body.

3...

As it turns out... I'm not even sure how this cat managed to make such a mess (or how he's managed to miss seeing it). The thing's body was sprawled out on the curb while it's intestines trailed out onto the street for about a foot and a half.

2...

...Head was completely smashed in, eyes popped out, brains... you get the picture...

1...

aaaaaand so did he.

After a mid-sentence casual glance to the ground he quickly trailed off as his eyes shot up in alarm as if to say "OMG THERE IS A DEAD CAT RIGHT BY YOUR FOOT!"

Then, in an instant, I watched the realization set in as his eyes darted between the cat (or what was left of it), the Humane Society van, and myself. His expression swiftly shifted as if to say "omg... you're here to PICK UP the cat...".

At that he turned around and walked away.

He never did finish his sentence.

Funny story: He's getting his degree from the same university that I have one of mine from.

I Come Prepared

Today I was looking for a dead cat on the corner of a particularly busy intersection.

Intersections essentially make a square, and I am to locate a dead cat. This seems excessively simple -yet the folly of many intersections is that they have not one, but four corners. So crossing the street to check around a busy area I sometimes find myself playing a life-sized game of frogger.

Barely making it safely across the street once, I meet a man who offers to help me "look for the loose dog". However, after informing him that.. unless he really wants to help me find and pick up a dead cat, I can probably take care of it... assuming I can get back across the street safely. He does, however, offer to pick me off the side of the road should I get hit on my way back to my vehicle.

Part way across the street some car zips around the corner just missing me. I hear the guy on the sidewalk gasp while I find myself laughing at the potential irony of the entire situation and so I holler back to inform the guy that I've got a shovel in the back of my van in case he needs it.

The Story I Didn't Want To Write

Also known as The Day I Cried.

So I see roadkill every day, but I never thought that I'd actually be the one creating my own. (I guess on the bright side I already had the bags and shovel with me.)

I was in a nice neighbourhood on my way to get a squirrel when this little girl was walking her adorable little golden retriever puppy when it somehow got away from her and--

Ok I'm totally kidding (shame on me, that was horrible).

But I would have cried in that story too.

Actually, this story doesn't involve roadkill at all.

I was picking up a big beautiful boxer from a vet clinic who'd just been neutered. He was a gorgeous dog but he'd snapped off a nail on his way into the clinic and, on top of the neuter, his front paw was all bandaged up.

I take him to the grass to do his business (he does nothing), load him into the van, and off we go back to the Humane Society. Well, as it turns out, my not so little friend had to tinkle after all. Actually, boxers aren't small dogs. It was more like a pressurized hose on full blast going off for about two full minutes in the back of my van. Thankfully, the dog was in a crate with a lip on it so it's not like the urine was all over the van.

But back at the Centre when I opened the trunk, there he was -sitting in a pool of pee. I tried my best to contain the mess. The poor guy was just neutered and the pee was... well, we'll go with a bit 'discoloured'. And for those of you who are unaware, male urine smells much worse than that of females. I laid a garbage bag between the back of the van and the front of the crate to line his exit route for an easy clean up.

Not too bad of a plan I thought.

But what've we learned about my plans so far? Yea.. this one didn't really work out either.

So the dog -covered in urine- rushes to get out of the van. Now don't forget his bandaged paw has done a nice job soaking up a lot of pee, as if the rest of him wasn't coated enough.

He scampers.

Pee splashes..

Everywhere...

Including in my face.

Yes -I had a freshly neutered dog's urine in my face.

And then no one was coming out to get the dog so I had to stand there leash in one hand, radio in the other, and just wait for someone until I could go in and wash/scrub/coat in sanitizer my face.

It was just a bad day. When I came home (yes living at home again... I get minimum wage, what else can you expect) and my mom asked me how my day was. I was just exhausted and I explained what happened, knowing it would be funny in the future so it kind of came out in a upset crying/laughing jumble... Which then resulted in an awkward hug as my mom was trying to balance the knowledge of 'my daughter needs a hug right now' versus the 'my daughter is covered in dog urine right now so I really don't want to touch her'.

Unnecessary

When most people happen to drive past a dead animal in the middle of the road they generally feel sad or grossed out -I, on the other hand, feel the duty to pull over and pick it up.

Not all things I pick up have been called in. Some I just come across in the midst of driving to and from various errands throughout the day; yet this morning's find was beyond the usual smushed rabbit or squirrel.

At first I thought that it was a black cat -which is why I stopped.

Wrong.

Skunk.

But this was no usual skunk, no --this skunk was virtually inside out.

In case you were wondering, inside out is bad. Plus it was pretty much the worst combination of smells you can imagine.

I had to use the shovel.
It was fresh (still limpy to handle plus it generated a really fresh and raw smell opposed to one after the odor has had a chance to dissipate).
The intestines were ruptured (intestines = stink central).
It was water-logged (that just enhances the stench to an entirely new level).
AND it was a skunk whose stink glands had been ruptured...

More on the Stink Spray from Pauline Gill at ehow.com:
The spray acts like tear gas that can cause momentary blindness to the predator, if the liquid gets near the eyes. It can cause nausea and vomiting because the chemical ingredients of the oil are thiols. Thiols are what make decomposing bodies and feces smell repulsive because they are emitted as part of the decomposing process. Skunks store the chemicals naturally as an oil. The spray is yellow oil that the skunk stores in two glands the size of grapes. The glands are located at the base of the tail. Each gland can store up to a tablespoon of oil that is enough for six discharges. If the skunk discharges all of the spray, it takes up to 10 days to restore it.

Anyway, I'm sure that most people have experienced what it's like to walk by an area where a skunk has sprayed... but imagine a dead skunk with ruptured stink glands... with the 12 sprays-worth of stench all at once.

Now don't get me wrong, I've experienced some pretty rancid smells over the summer and have enhanced my already extremely strong stomach.

But I still threw up a little bit in my throat.

Not an ideal way to start a morning.

The Tree Incident

This is the story of the day I hit a tree.

No, not with my vehicle.

--With my face.

I was chasing after an injured duck (ya'kno, crouched low, arms out, moving forward in an oddly similar waddling fashion to the injured duck itself), when I speedily waddled myself straight into a tree branch. Apparently I was too busy watching the stupid duck to see where I was actually going.

Then the darn bird hopped down into the stream and swam away. I sighed, put my hand on my newly scraped forehead, and turned around thoroughly unsuccessful just in time to wave back at a cyclist biking towards me along the path.

I bet he thought I was so cool.

Catching up!

Oh goodness, apparently I have been hugely slacking lately.

It's not like there hasn't been plenty of gooey, sticky, and smelly things for me to pick up... I've just been short on time to share the stories! I've had to back track a little bit but I figure that's alright.

Haha sorry! I didn't realize people actually read this often enough to notice my slacking!

Bad Combination

It's been really stormy lately and my head doesn't do well with that; so today at work I was feeling quite under the weather.

Just in case anyone was curious, this is really not the job to have while you're feeling sick.

So Generous

Today I had a ride-along.

One of the girls on a co-op position from college had been working in the back with the Animal Care Staff but this morning they decided to send her along with me to see another aspect of what the Humane Society takes care of.

Apparently today was the day for dead raccoons, we had about five, but it was nice to have someone to chat with. Usually my other passengers are so quiet.

I teased her saying that she'd have to pick something up, as I did with another ride-along that I had in the past, but I didn't actually expect her to do it. But after watching me pick up a few raccoons I asked her if she wanted to get the next one and she said she would... except when we got there this raccoon was teeming with maggots... especially crawling out the eye sockets and inside the mouth.

I told her she didn't have to get it and at the very least offered to get her the shovel -but after a few deep breathes she stooped and scooped that stinker right up.

Most of it anyway, a bit of it's face fell off but I picked that up for her.

I was impressed! Far be it from me to horde all the exciting stories for myself!

Oh Deer...

Yep! That's right! I got my first deer today!

Well... part of it anyway.

This call came out to us as "a skinned carcass on the side of the road". We figured it was a deer so two of us went out to deal with it (often they are too big for one person handle... and they'd certainly be too big for me to lug around alone).

However, when we got there we realized that there was no actual body to the deer... just a pile of intestines and organs next to a skinned head. I was told that in all likelihood a hunter probably dumped the parts there rather than properly disposing of them.

Thanks Mr. Hunter, because of your laziness I had to pick up after you.

The other officer got the pile of inner-bits while I got the skinned head; except he dropped one of the organs so I picked that up too... I think it was either a lung or the liver... perhaps I should brush up on my anatomy so I can recognize the different parts that I come across.

...Future field trip option for an authentic learning opportunity with real-life application?!

Maybe not.

What's the Point?

I've never owned a cat. I've never been inclined to own a cat. Although I don't mind cats, I'm much more of a dog person. Personally, I consider this to be incredibly helpful because quite often I find myself scraping cats off the side of the road or bagging cats that have crawled off and died in the bushes. Really, starting your day bagging a couple dead cats each morning is not really ideal... but I can imagine it being much worse if I had owned any cats in the past.

Warning: rant
...When I do find myself picking up cats, although it's sad, I find myself thinking about the (pardon me) stupid owners who let them run around outside. Seriously, it is a pet owner's job to protect and care for their animals. Cats don't understand crosswalk signals and I can guarantee you that they're always on the losing team when up against a vehicle... so I don't understand how people are actually surprised when their cat gets hit by a car.
End rant.

Anyway... before I started this job little did I know that there were multiple types of Siamese cats that are classified by different 'points' noted on their face: seal point, chocolate point, blue point, and lilac point. So I pull up behind this cat by the curb and note that it looks like a Siamese.

"Interesting," I think to myself, "I wonder if I can remember what kind of point it is!"
(Okay... give me a break here. My days are not exactly intellectually challenging and anything that keeps my brain thinking turns out to be exciting for me.)

However, when I walk around to the front of the cat all I see is a bloody mashed in and popped out head. I think the eyes get to me the most. And it was still dripping. Needless to say, I was unable to classify the Siamese's point.

...Honestly, keep your darn cats inside.

Fact

Today I got cat intestines on my arm.

The Capture of the Cockatiel

I got my first stray today!

Generally speaking, I do DOAs (Dead On Arrival), injured birds, animal transport (to and from vets), other errands, and some licensing... but today I got a stray.

A pearl cockatiel had escaped and was found by a couple, ushered into their kitchen, and was being kept under a laundry basket. Although the husband wanted to keep it, the wife had vetoed that option and so there I was.

The little guy didn't want to climb up on my hand while my gloves were on, but the husband reassured me that he was really friendly and that I would probably be fine without them. Sure enough, gloves removed, the cockatiel soon hopped up and climbed up to perch quite comfortably on my shoulder. Obviously I couldn't go outside with him there as he'd fly away but when I tried to get him on my hand again he flew over to the husband.

This was the plan: have him hop up on my left hand, pet him with my right, and then gently hold his wings down so I'd be able to bring him to the crate. (You know, my ideas always seem to work so well in theory... but by now I should really know ahead of time that they're going to somehow mess up.)

Cockateils, as I soon found out, do not like to be confined like this by strangers and they also have really bendy necks. Meaning, very effectively biting my hands and fingers was not a problem for the littly guy.

"Oh, he's really biting you there eh?"
"Yea..." And so I ask the husband to help put a glove on each hand while I hold the bird in the other.
"Oh, well it can't be all that bad.." chimes in the wife.
"Well," I laugh and calmly say,"it's enough... I mean, he's drawing blood and I'm bleeding from my fingernails so... I wouldn't mind the gloves..."

The bird was contained and I brought my first stray back to the Centre without any further problems. But realistically, just throwing this out there, bleeding from the fingernails is not exactly pleasant. I didn't exactly see her going within 5 ft of the bird...

Inevitability

The fairy-tale ending in a chick-flick...
Frizzy hair on beach day...
Massive blisters after breaking in a new pair of heels through a night out dancing...

Some things in life are just inevitable...

...like how on long weekends, lots and lots of stuff will get hit.

Today was really busy (catching up on all the death from the weekend); yet, when looking back on my day, I thought that nothing particularly abnormal struck me as noteworthy.

Then I begin to think --today I picked up...

-a dead cat that had an eyeball dangling from it's socket
-half a dozen squirrels (it's a wonder they keep their population up)
-a ridiculously, wretched smelling opossum that I had to tie outside of my van
-another dead cat that seemed okay from the front, but had essentially pooped out its insides
-a bloated raccoon
- and I'd also fended off a horde of wasps in picking up a dead duck along some trail

There were more animals I'm sure, but after a while they start to blend together. Again, another inevitable result of my job I suppose. However, I'd like to note that in my case becoming jaded as an incredibly good thing.

What I can't understand is how, in my line of work, some other people choose to ignore the inevitable problems that arise from dead animals; i.e. stench, flies, maggots.

Last week I got a call for a dead opossum in a family's backyard. (For the record, calls on people's property are generally fairly intact as they haven't been rotting for too long before getting called in.) But this mom decided to go against the grain. This animal had been rotting for, oh, probably a month. The smell was unreal. I stood there and just looked at the darn thing for two minutes watching its skin literally crawl and ripple from the maggots.

I had two options:
1) Gloved/normal bagging technique
2) Shovel

Ah, I'll just grab it and get it over with -it's faster as it's a hassle fumbling with an open bag, and I didn't really want to deal with the obscene amount of maggots for any longer than necessary.

I chose wrong.

I grabbed and bagged him, but a lot of good that did. I basically got the skeletal structure and head while the rest of the flesh just kind of... schlumped off... and what I was left with looked like a 5 lb bucket of maggots, fur, and fleshy bits had been dumped out on the grass (mostly maggots though). I tried using the shovel (for the first time might I add) but... I think I just ended up spreading it around more.

Ah well, what did they expect? To leave a rotting animal and have it magically disappear without a mess? It would have been so much easier to deal with if she'd called it in right away... or just picked it up herself (she probably doesn't have a pair of Man-Pants though).

Patent Ready!

Today was not a great day.

Realistically speaking, my job is not exactly what I would consider stressful. I get calls, I drive to them, I get to them when I can... it's not like they're going anywhere.

Needless to say, it's not exactly life and death... well, for me anyway.

But today was not ideal. There was a bit of rain (bit surprise with the summer we've been having) and this seemingly warranted people to drive like idiots. I think that I may have been driving around with a sign strapped to my van reading "PLEASE CUT ME OFF".

However!

Alert the papers: I have found the solution to tailgaters.

It's easy! All you have to do is tie a dead skunk to hang out the trunk of your vehicle!

That trip back to the shelter was the best drive I had all day.

Sometimes You Just Know

It's true.

Sometimes, you can just tell that a call is going to be an adventure:

"DOA ground hog -Back of building, stuck in pipe."

Oh goodness...

I arrive at the back of a small apartment building and find that where the parking lot ends there is a retaining wall down about a foot to the sloping grassy back area. Sticking out of this wall... is a ground hog. You see, there's a drain pipe that went under the parking lot and exited at this wall. There is, however, a small pipe that crosses the larger hole to, as I understand, try and keep animals out.... evidentially quite unsuccessfully mind you.

Something like this:
Anyway, see that little spot between the bar and the bottom of the pipe? That is where the stupid little stinker wedged his head in and died.

An incredibly nice older woman who made the call greeted me, soon followed by the building's superintendent and another building resident. Again, surprised to see me as the one showing up to remedy this situation, we joked about getting paid the 'big bucks' for my job... aka. min wage.

Gloves? -check
Garbage bag? -check
Vicks? (for the smell) -check
Man-Pants? -check

Getting hold of the little guy's shoulders, I give a tug.... zero movement.
<crowd gasps>

Tugging harder, trying to shimmy him out for a few minutes, I make little leeway. The superintendent suggests I lose the garbage bag and just grab him with the gloves for more traction... I say he's more than welcome to give that method a try if he'd like, yet surprisingly he declines.

We laugh and chat, mostly about how I'm supposed to be an elementary school teacher,as the peanut gallery grows slightly. Eventually the older woman needs to catch the bus to work, but sadly comments that she wishes she could see how it all ends... luckily for her the superintendent offers to drive her to work. (New thought: charging admission?)

Progress is slow. Shimmying only works so well... I'm not going to lie, bits of his scalp were coming off... how he got in there in the first place is beyond me. I eventually reach in and try to push him out... meaning I find myself reaching into a hole to push on a dead, bloated ground hog's face in order to unwedge it from being stuck in a pipe.

Seriously, I have no idea how either the ground hog or myself got into that situation.

Yet I can't deny that my day provides me with very unique accomplishments.

After 30-45 minutes of pushing and tugging on the little bugger, when he finally came lose I, along with my newly formed fan club, cheered.

...Oddly enough, thinking this would be the end of my 'interesting' calls for the day, I went directly from this to a woman with a dead goose... stuck on top of her gazebo.

"Yea... I don't really know how you're going to get it off of there"
"Neither do I... but it's gotta be easier than the ground hog I just dealt with..."

A Friendly Reminder...

Today was a bit different. We've been updating our dog licensing and I was calling around to different households to remind them that their dog's license is out of date.

At first I thought that the worst part of this task would be leaving answering machine messages for people. I know everyone thinks that they sound like a moron when they leave messages, but I somehow seem to feel especially stupid.

However...

There are a few main reasons why people haven't renewed their dog's license:

1) They've moved
2) The dog has died
3) They just genuinely forgot

The last option isn't so bad and neither is the first, with the exception of that awkward "...um... no, sorry, I think you have the wrong number" moment.

Yet please note possibility #2.

Therefore, most of what I say seems to go something like this:

"Hello! It's the Humane Society calling. We've been updating our dog licensing and we're calling to check on how Scruffy's doing!
...Oh... just passed away... I'm so sorry to hear that...
...Yes ma'am... I'm sure he was a lovely dog...
...I'm... really sorry to have brought all this up again...
...Did you happen to get another dog by any chance?
...Irreplaceable, yes I ..I understand...
...Ma'am, yes, I'm really sorry for your loss..."

I should just change my message to straight out say

"Hello! It's the Humane Society calling. This is just a friendly reminder about how your dog just died. ..Oh you just got over that? ...Yep, we're rehashing that wound for you all over again! Alright, well you have a good day! Take care!"

Calling old ladies is the worst.

I am a horrible person.

I'm Not Really Sure About How Spellcheck Would Feel About This One...

Pull up to squirrel in the middle of the road.

Intact? Check.

Win.

Seriously, it's an easy pick up... maybe 2 seconds max.

I get out of the vehicle, bag in hand, and am about to grab the little critter when a vehicle approaches. I step back from being half a moment away from very obviously picking up the animal in the middle of the road when...

KKQWURSPLLRDTHH.....

I turn to face the moronic driver, raise my arms in dismay... only to hear...

QRSPLLUDDRRUH...

...

A second car?

seriously?

Thanks.

Well... needless to say... my nice, intact, simple, and easy squirrel was no longer around.

Anyone Up For A BBQ?

I'm taking orders!

Progress!

An additional side note for today:

I bagged another skunk, but all by myself this time! Also, I wasn't even that stinky afterwards.

I realize that this is largely due to the fact that the skunk had managed to bite the big one without rupturing his stink glands (bless his heart), but I, on the other hand, am going to chalk my relatively-stinkless-escape up to my progressing skills.

Now that's what I call talent!