Poor dead beaver

I can't seem to focus. It's been a little over a week. Maybe it is stress, maybe it is Mom having been ill, maybe it is allergies. Could be anything. Whatever the cause, I have been trying to think of blog posts to put up and everything either seems too depressing or I get distracted. It seemed REALLY important that my next blog post be hilarious. But I realized that my humor lately is quite dark. I am not sure that has changed, however I am going to blog anyway. I have to jump in with both feet. Go ahead, the water is fine :)

One idea that I have been obsessed with for a while is this dead beaver on the side of the road. There are maybe six different roads I can take at the very end of my otherwise monotonous drive to work and I like to change them up. Add a little spice to my routine. But my favorite road winds down into downtown Maryville and puts you out at the base of the park. It is a beautiful view. When the weather and the sun is just right, it can be breathtaking. One day, about a week and a half ago, on the side of this road, was a Beaver that had become roadkill.

I was in a strange mood that day and I said out loud to myself, "Poor dead beaver". You don't see Beavers, alive or dead, very often these days. (Strangely enough, Cris and I saw a live beaver just a few days later) The beaver was lying on it's side. Facing away from traffic, with his head near the road. He was largely intact, from what I could tell. It looked to be an instant and painless death. I felt sad for the beaver, but went on with my day.

The next day, I happened to take the same route. The traffic was backed up at the light and it was faster. Nothing more, nothing less. And there was the beaver! His position had changed slightly, he was bloating up from being in the sun and it looked like animals were starting to get to his body. The beaver was being humiliated. Again I said, "Poor dead beaver".

Now the NEXT day I went back down that road on purpose. This was turning into my little science experiment, watching the decay of this poor dead creature on the side of the road. So when I turned the corner and the beaver was missing, I was sad for a moment. No dead beaver! What I did notice, however, was the mysterious ... stain left by the beaver. And now I have this obsession. Because the stain is still there. Beaver stain. I look FORWARD to it. How sick is that? I drive down that road every day, craning my neck to see the beaver stain. And I say it outloud. "Beaver stain" I am sure there is some Fruedianism in there somewhere or maybe a lesson to learn from the beaver. I do wonder where it went sometimes, did the city come and scoop him up with a shovel? Did a bigger animal drag him off as a snack? I won't ever know.

I am watching to see how long the stain lingers. It is on pavement, so surely it will fade. That is my new expirement. To follow the course of the stain. Poor dead beaver.