The hard truth that I've been found seems unavoidable. I guess I can't be surprised; it was seemingly inevitable. Still, I would have liked to have remained hidden until I had a bit more evidence. The past few days, however, have made it clear that's not possible.
It began Monday. I was on my way out when an overpowering odor assaulted me. At first it was just too extreme for me to even guess where it was coming from, but as my senses adjusted-- as much as they could, anyway-- it became clear the stench's origin was somethere beneath me. As I was on the porch, the task of locating the foul smell was a bit daunting. Nonetheless, I resigned myself to climbing down underneath the house. I did put on a small, white, filter mask and my work gloves first, though.
As it turned out, the process of finding the source of the odor was a short one. Immediately after flipping my flashlight on and sending bugs scurrying from the unwanted beam, the somewhat macabre scene turned my stomach. There, improbably, was a dead deer! It had been shot, apparently, but how it had managed to wedge itself under the porch was a mystery. I spent the next hour dragging it out. I've attached a picture, though I'm not sure why-- perhaps I just want you all to know what I'm dealing with.
Unfortunately, it wasn't the last of its kind. Yesterday it was a large dog that turned up dead and moldering under the wooden boards in front of my house (I'll spare you the visual evidence this time), and today the stench is back again. I haven't yet gone to investigate, but I am tired of this morbid ritual. Even more than that, though, I'm fearful of what this portends.
Obviously, whoever is leaving these "gifts" intends them to scare me, and while I am not really worried about winding up beneath the porch, I am concerned that now I'm being spied on. My detractors have done quite well in disrupting my plans with nothing but my blog to work with. How will I accomplish anything if they have my location?
Plus, there's the matter of actually removing the carcasses every day. It's not at all pleasant, and knowing that someone is coming here during the night to drop them off is disturbing. I actually tried to stay awake last night, and managed to stave off sleep until after four in the morning, but I never heard anything. How is that possible? The process of placing the bodies must be far quieter than removing them.
I guess it's time to move on from this house as well. At least the next location will likely smell better.
Until next time...