Waiting for nature's course.

I wrote about a dead cat. A week or two ago. In a gutter. Along a roadside. In the city of Carbonia. In Sardinia. Someone lifted the carcass out of the gutter. On to the curb. And it's been there ever since. The body gradually deteriorating. Becoming decomposed. Though there hasn't been much noticeable visible change. Except that the once peaceful looking cat now appears fierce. Because the lips have shriveled. Exposing the cat's fangs. I wonder if the city picks up dead animals. And tosses them into an incinerator. Or buries 'em. Maybe I should buy a shovel. And bury the cat in a nearby meadow. Seems to me that back in Minnesota, a vulture or a crow or some svavenger would make a quick meal of the cat. But that doesn't seem to be happening in Sardinia. Maybe there aren't any scavengers. There's no odor. No death smell. So I guess pedestrians just ignore the cat. Which not so long ago was alive and moving. And now lies still. Waiting for nature to take its course. --Jim Broede