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CSI: Labradoodle

My husband Mike and I were taking our daily walk in the woods, when we came upon what can only be described as an EX-animal. Strewn about in the middle of the path, were chunks of white bone and a softball-sized clump of graying flesh.

“Crime of passion,” I said, surveying the murder scene. “Look at the way the bones are carelessly scattered about. And there is hardly anything left of it. This wasn’t a robbery.”

“I don’t see any wallet or purse,” agreed Mike. “But I think the body was dumped here. This doesn’t look like the scene of the attack. There is no blood.”

It is possible that Mike and I watch too many real crime shows on television.

A larger question than motive for the murder leaped to our Dateline-addled brains.  Our victim was virtually unidentifiable. A piece of skull, maybe a few crushed ribs or leg bones, and one blob of flesh that resembled an alien egg more than anything that used to walk the earth, were all we had. Surely, no one we knew could identify the body from these meager remains.

“It’s a fox,” Gordon, our Labradoodle, said in his head. Not so much in words, but rather, Gordon pictured the foxes he’d chased through these woods before, and recognized the scent even in this rotting, broken-down version.

Unfortunately, we can’t see Gordon’s picture words.

I poked at the fleshy part of the carcass with a stick. “What the heck is it?”

“A fox,” said Gordon.

“I can’t tell from these bits of bone…” said Mike.

“Yo, dumbass, it’s a FOX!” said Gordon. He can curse quite a bit when he’s agitated. We’ve been working on that.I poked around a bit more and found a clump of brown fur inside the rubbery chunk o’ animal.

“It had brown fur,” I said, pointing it out to Mike.

“Oh, you mean like a fox?” said Gordon. He can be rather sarcastic as well. I think that’s from the French Poodle side.

“Maybe like a baby deer?” asked Mike.

“Like a WHAT??” screamed Gordon. But the shape of his mouth really hindered his verbal indignation, and it came out more like “woof!”

We decided to move on, eventually coming across the lower jaw bone of an animal.

“Hm, so, it was definitely a mammal, with molars…” I said.

“Hmmm… like a… let’s see… FOX?!!” said Gordon.

Gordon tries not to think about how stupid we are.

“Maybe someone’s little dog got loose and a fox grabbed it?” suggested Mike.

Gordon snapped his attention to Mike.

“Did you hear me say dog, Gordon?” asked Mike.

Gordon stamped his curly feet. “NO, you said FOX, goddammit!! FAAHHHHXXXXX!”

“Too big to be a little dog a fox could carry,” I surmised, watching Gordon appear to yawn.

“But maybe just right to be A LITTLE FOX,” said Gordon.

“We’ll have to send the remains to the lab for DNA testing,” I said.

“We don’t have a lab,” said Mike.

“Oh, right. That’s on TV. Oh well, guess we’ll never know. Leave it, Gordon, let’s go,” I said, walking on.

Gordon heaved a great sigh and said something I really don’t feel comfortable repeating. We really have to work on his language.

Amy Vansant

Voted Funniest Non-Mommy Blog by a Bunch of Moms I Got Really Drunk.Amy has been finding creative ways to make no money since high school.
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13 Responses

  1. Abby

    This is quite possibly the best post I’ve read in a week. It cracked my ass up and once again made me grateful that my dog cannot actually verbalize half the crap he witnesses me do.
    Add your Twitter:

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    • Amy Vansant

      Thank you! You wouldn’t believe how much I had to edit what Gordon really said so as not to offend too many people. We play this game at home where he is “Mr. Pumpernickel” when he speaks in a very refined English accent, but then he becomes “Mr. Rye” where he curses up a storm and is very rude.
      We maybe should get a hobby or something.

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  2. Angela DiCarlo

    This was so funny! I laughed my ass off while reading it because it reminded me of my miniature French Poodle. OMG What dogs could say if they could actually talk! Mine would have cursed me out a long time ago for being soooooooo stupid! You know those French! They think we are” stupeed americuns puooo!” Thanks for sharing your story! Loved it!

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  3. You're Lucky I Don't Have a Gun...

    “We don’t have a lab,” said Mike

    Yes you do- a LABradoodle, to be exact. ;)

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  4. The Reason You Come

    What a fun read! Thanks, I needed a laugh! :)

    Poor Gordon, though. It’s infuriating to not be understood.

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  5. Amy Vansant

    Well, and we just caught him trying to EAT that piece of flesh 2 weeks later. Sure it looked like beef jerky, but he’s fired from CSI. You just can’t have the detectives EATING the victims.

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  6. Christine

    I need to quit reading these in Starbucks with a sip of coffee in my mouth.

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  7. Josie

    My little French poodle gets very indignant with me in situations like this! He curses me out and gives me the sneeze of righteous indignation whenever I stupidly am not understanding what he is trying to tell me. What a funny post, and I could definitely relate to it!

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  8. Carrie

    Gordon is so smart.
    The last time Chester the morkie found a dead animal he rolled in it and it took me forever to wash the stench of death off of him.

    *sidenote Dear neighbor who asked if I had seen your cat recently…..I retract my no. Please come and get it before the other dogs roll in it
    Carrie recently posted..Calling All Aussie Readers

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