Putitdown.

We run down Depot Road, my dog and I. Almost home.

Then I feel Penny pull. I look down. She has a flat brown thing between her teeth. A dead bird, a small corpse covered in slippery wet feathers, I decide.

And like an idiot who yells at someone who doesn't know his/her language, I yell and yank for Penny to understand me, "PUT IT DOWN! DoOooownNa.Putitdown. Penny! Drop it. DROP IT!"


She twists her neck to avoid my tentative fingers, but I reach and pinch the mystery meat and pull it away. It looks like beef, cooked and seasoned. Is it the thigh of a rodent? Could be. Could definitely be. But then I see the cooking skewer hanging from her jaw like an old fashioned cigarette holder. I throw the cig into the snow and dangle the last piece of greasy roadside meat above her head. I do not ask her to Sit, Come, Stay or lay Down. I throw the kabob to the cold cement and wipe my fingers.