Gone But Not Forgotten

*Pauses to look at the two shiny new followers*  *waves*  *huffs then buffs knuckles and pats self on the back*  *Tries to remember today's topic*

Ahem.  Sorry about that.  I get distracted easily.  Particularly when I think about how long it's been since there has been any positive change in the Beautifulist.  So what if I'm related to one and the other may have felt obligated.  I will take ya'll any way I can get you-the challenge will be to keep you coming back!  *wink*

Those of you who have been with me for awhile know of my EQ/WOW driven interest in roadkill. I pay close attention to all the little dead bodies I pass on the road, evaluating each for quality, in case it might be something I need.  This has been going on for what?  Close to ten years now? 

Well, today, I just want to stop and acknowledge one of these piles of what is left after bumper meets fur.

Every time, for the last three and a half years, that I drive down Highway 90 on my way to town, when I get to the point where I can just see the 84 lumber sign, I look to the right, and I see what I have come to think of as Flat Dog.  I always say, in my head (but sometimes out loud, too) "I see you, Flat Dog."  This poor thing.  I think of it as a 'him' in my head.  I did not see him immediately following the storm (Hurricane Katrina)-it was actually about ten days later-but I think of him as a victim of it, nonetheless.  After the storm, the traffic around here was awful, what with all of the debris removal trucks clogging up the roads, and for some reason, I attribute his death to one of them. 

I guess it is because I have slowly watched his carcass go from something that looked like it once held life to something only I probably recognize as 'dog', but it is very important to me that Flat Dog gets some recognition.  You see, Flat Dog has a whole history in my head, ala Harriet the Spy.  He had a boy, but the boy's home was destroyed in the storm as were many in this area.  Because animals were not allowed in the shelters, Flat Dog had been searching for his boy in the early dawn hours one morning.  In his doggy brain, he was remembering the last time the boy had thrown the ball for him and his body just naturally jumped to catch the ball and never saw the truck veer onto the berm headed straight at him.  It was very sudden.  It caught him mid-jump, and he was frozen in that position forever.  He looked like he died with a smile on his face, like he was for all time chasing after that ball...and that boy.

Who knows?  He could have been a stray that tore up people's garbage and chased little pussycats and pooped on the sidewalks.  But I like my version better.

I see you, Flat Dog.