The house on the corner has been abandoned for a couple of years. The owners came by about 3 months ago and spent a few weekends tearing off the roof. We were delighted, it had become a real eyesore. Doors caved in, windows broken, trash bags full of stuff piled so deep you could see them in every window. Finally-demolition!
Then they never came back. There are scraps of tar paper and random shingles all over the yard and they blow across and get tangled in the field fencing on the other side of the road. And the house has all the walls but no lid.
There is a new dog in the area, a tan and white hound of unknown homage, though we suspect he lives at the house CJ is renting. It started going in the house and pulling out things to play with. In the road.
The first thing was Woody from Toy Story. I ran him over coming in from dropping the recycling, it was late. I did not see him really until just before he thumped under the van. A flash of his jaunty hat and the slight whack of him hitting the undercarriage. I was mortified. I roadkilled Woody. I imagined him murmuring, "there's a snake in my booooooooooooot" as he died.
The next few things were stuffed toys. A bear, a frog, a large soft stuffed doll with yarn details and glassy eyes. Then nothing new for a few days, the old amusements growing damp and mushed or tangled in the neighbors fence.
Then the dog hauled a life scaled plastic baby doll, naked and pink, out into the road. I started going the other way after that, but today I forgot, needed to run the recycling before it took over the kitchen, so off I went. The doll is just an arm now, fat dimpled elbow and curled fingers, sticking out of the grass below the fence by the road.
Sometimes, I think about moving.
Then they never came back. There are scraps of tar paper and random shingles all over the yard and they blow across and get tangled in the field fencing on the other side of the road. And the house has all the walls but no lid.
There is a new dog in the area, a tan and white hound of unknown homage, though we suspect he lives at the house CJ is renting. It started going in the house and pulling out things to play with. In the road.
The first thing was Woody from Toy Story. I ran him over coming in from dropping the recycling, it was late. I did not see him really until just before he thumped under the van. A flash of his jaunty hat and the slight whack of him hitting the undercarriage. I was mortified. I roadkilled Woody. I imagined him murmuring, "there's a snake in my booooooooooooot" as he died.
The next few things were stuffed toys. A bear, a frog, a large soft stuffed doll with yarn details and glassy eyes. Then nothing new for a few days, the old amusements growing damp and mushed or tangled in the neighbors fence.
Then the dog hauled a life scaled plastic baby doll, naked and pink, out into the road. I started going the other way after that, but today I forgot, needed to run the recycling before it took over the kitchen, so off I went. The doll is just an arm now, fat dimpled elbow and curled fingers, sticking out of the grass below the fence by the road.
Sometimes, I think about moving.
