"As a human, and in these brief lives we are given, the job may be to donated blood, time and/or money to those in need.Beyond all of those, there are even more minute jobs: watching the sky, noticing someone's smile, observing a praying mantis, holding a sleeping baby, relishing in a sunrise...or being the keeper of dead baby birds.I am going to keep my job; even if that means I am weird."
This quote is from the blog of artist, writer, Jennifer Stevning, who also happens to be my neice. Her self-described job as keeper of dead baby birds inspired me to write about my weird job...well, one of them.
I sometimes walk with my dogs on some private property beyond the campground. You have to climb over two fences to get there, but I don't think the owner would mind. He or she keeps a wide path mowed sporadically that meanders throughout the property, going no place in particular.
At different times of year, I've gotten to see tons of wild flowers and a few unusual birds. It surprises me every time I go out there. I am also a little afraid of snakes--cotton mouths especially--but I think the wide path is some protection.
The coyotes though seem to like marking the path with their scat. It's so easy to distinguish it from regular dog poop because the ends are quite pointy and they contain a great deal of fur. Usually brown or grey fur...the rabbit they feasted on last night. In any event, I find it is my job to grab a stick and poke through the coyote poop. I'm not looking for rabbit fur but evidence that the coyote had a sweeter breakfast...perhaps someone's house cat or tiny little purse dog. I can picture the coyotes prancing about and bragging to their coyote friends, "Hey, Brutus, check it out, I could put this Yorkie in my purse. But nah, I think I'll just eat him." Hahaha, the coyotes chuckle.
So last week, I grabbed a stick and poked through a pile of scat I hadn't seen before. It lasts a long time because it is made of hair and bone, which is pure white and hard as...well, bone. I poked around a little more and found what I was looking for: a little red nylon collar. Couldn't tell if it belonged to a cat or dog, but it was definitely one or the other. I wished I had something to carry it in and realized I had the perfect vessel in my pocket: the poop bags I carry for my own dogs.
I showed it to everybody who would pay attention at the campground. It's my job. And I still have the sample. Maybe tomorrow I'll post a photo.