Pam came home and said that she was worried that there was a dead dog in the middle of the road, possibly Yoda.

I didn’t think that I’d seen Yoda in over a year but she (I know but Yoda’s name was well established by the time that I met her) wasn’t the only midsize reddish Golden Retriever around.

It was getting dark and we were both creeped out by the thought of the dog’s remains left out there where it could be run over again. <shudder>

I also figured that if it had a collar, there may be a number or something.

I grabbed an old coat and a flashlight and went to assess things.

As I walked towards the reddish lump, <shudder> I tried to figure out if it really was a dog. It was the right color. The apparent size looked close. But I didn’t see a recognizable head or limbs. <shudder>

It wasn’t until I was almost on top of it that it resolved into a wet paper bag.

I said “ohthankgosh” to myself because I’m rarely in the mood for dealing with dead dogs and their owners.