- Stare at the mangled ball of meat, bone, possible intestine, and fur for a potentially unreasonable span of time.
- Turn on your barefoot heel and go back in the house. Grumble absently about how there isn’t enough coffee in the world for this bullshit as you prepare your first cup.
- Ignore said body as much as possible.
- Accuse Ragnar, Minerva, and fAngus in turn, because whomever chewed up whatever that was and spit it out did NOT do a good job of cleaning up after themselves.
- Sigh at three separate instances of confused looks, tail wags, and nose boops. Wonder why you have murderous pets.
- Be grossed out because ONE of those noses booped a dead thing, likely a mouse but impossible to identify, not long ago.
- Drive to the closest Starbucks from the town twenty minutes away (yes, I’m Minnesotan, we measure distance by time) because still not enough coffee AND a forty minute minimum round trip delays the inevitable. Eww.
- Work for at least three hours without going back outside. Out of sight, out of mind.
- Continue ignoring the mangled ball while reading at the other end of the deck. Pretend the hummingbird WWIII occurring above your head is far more important.
- Note that neither dog has even looked at the meat pile all day. Further proof one of them is responsible, they just already enjoyed whatever they got out of it. Decide not to continue that line of thinking in any way.
- Sigh again. Note it’s now 4pm and soon important things like middle school open house will occur. Procrastination over. Gather a hefty handful of paper towels and scoop up all the leftovers, including whatever little round pieces are behind the planter.
- Do not question how extra bits got behind the planter. Just go with it.
- Carry the whole grisly caboodle to the fire barrel and drop it in there. Make mental note to burn buckthorn at some point this weekend in said fire barrel. For safety. And disposal.
- Immediately take a very long shower. Yes, I know this is 14 and my list was supposed to be 13, and yes I left the title as is, because, again, not enough coffee in the world.
13 things to do when you find a dead body on your deck at 8:30am.
No Pithy Phrase 