It rained cats and dogs again today. Big storm. No kittens or puppies. Fortunately the Weather Network predicted this one, so I wasn't caught cycling to work. Last time I was knocked off my bike by a terrier. I did, however, get a dent in the hood of my car from a falling Siamese.
When I took the job at the works department I thought it was going to be slack. The city was gearing up for snow storms that only happened once every seventy years. I figured I'd play a lot of cards in the winter, and mow a few parks in the summer. Then this.
It's a pretty horrible job, picking up all the dead cats and dogs off the road. Especially the ones that have been run over, and you have to get a spade and scrape them off. You'd think that motorists would be more careful to avoid the animals.
The worst, though, are the ones that aren't quite dead yet. You'll come up to their mangled bodies, and you can hear them whimpering, and they look up at you with pain in their eyes. We give them an injection. The first time I was in shock. I couldn't do it. It took me half an hour to work up the courage. But when the whimpering stopped, and a look of peace settled on the dog, it made it easier.
But you have to be careful. Stephen was bending down to administer a shot to a German Sheppard, when it turned around and bit him. But as far as veterinarians have been able to determine, none of the animals falling from the sky has rabies.
Still, I must be starting to get used to it. I only threw up once today. Of course, by the time we get to the side streets the corpses will have started to putrefy.
Plus, the dead animals that people have collected from their yards and put out for the garbage will have been rotting for several days. They really need to implement emergency garbage services, but city council is holding the line on once a week pick up. No tax increases.
I've thought about quitting. I could start up my own business, removing dead animals from people's roofs. But who knows if this will happen often enough to make it profitable.
Meanwhile, I've been assigned to the financial district tomorrow. Well, it could be worse. The forecast for Winnipeg is goats and sheep.
Copyright © 1996, 2001 Paul Stockton. All rights reserved.
Last updated: April 2, 2001