I found this to be true. One day, my beloved Great Dane decided to explode for no apparent reason(actually, it was bloat, but nobody told me that Danes did that sort of thing). He was outside playing with my other dog one evening, and when I went out to let him in, he was laying on the porch, very dead, and well, I’ll spare you the gore, but it wasnt pretty. I called my sisters vet(she is in th greyhound rescue deal, so she has her vets home phone number), and she said told me that some times this sort of thing happens to danes, and since it went so fast, there wouldnt have been anything I could of done about it.
Then came the question, what does one do with a 160 pound dead great dane. Luckily my wife and kid had just left town that day, so they didnt have to see it. But here I am, with a bad back and a huge dead animal that I am was extremely attached to. I mean, you can’t really flush him down the toliet, or put him in a trash bag.
SO I called my Bass player, who was also a Dog lover, and got his answering machine. I called one of my best friend who lives about 30 miles away, and he said he would help, but that he couldnt come till tomorrow morning, the kids were in bed(it was about 11 pm. I put the other dog in the house, and went to bed and tried to sleep(yeah right).
The next morning, I got up and drove to my friends house. We stopped at walmart, and got a shovel, a big blue plastic tarp, and a big bottle of amonia to kill the smell so the other dog wouldnt dig it up, and a jug of bleach to sanatize everything. By the time we got back, it was already well over 100 degrees outside, and the dog had been out there for way too long. There was a nasty note on my front door frome the animal control, about my dead animal. Apparently one of my neighbors had looked over the fence. I call them up and explain that yes, my dog was dead, and that I was taking care of it as fast as I could. My friend throws the tarp over the remains, and we proceed to try and dig a hole. In my neighborhood in texas, you can go down about 3 inches and then you hit rock. I found this out that day. There was no way in hell we were digging a hole deep enough to bury that dog in. About this time, my bass player shows up and suggests we call the city. Since I’m pretty out of it by this time, he calls, and I can hear him telling the people that they need to bring at least 2 guys to be able to move this thing. THey tell him that we have to get it out to the curb first. SO…they find a big piece of cardboard, fold the dog, tarp and all up in the thing like a big taco, and duct tape it up. they manage to drag him down to the street as best they could without gagging from the smell, and deposite him curbside. My bass player goes back to clean up the porch, hoses it down with bleach. At some point he runs out of bleach, so he decides to dump the whole bottle of amonia onto the bleach already on the porch. My friend and I wander back around the house to see how hes doing, and hes staggering around from the fumes pouring off the porch. We see the empty amonia and bleach bottles, and drag out into the fresh air. (it was really a close call, because we were all out of tarps, and I don’t think animal control picks up bass players anyway).
THe animal control guy finally shows up, but insists in unpacking the dog before he takes it away. We left, locked up the house and got the hell out of there before he got it cut open.
Now those were real friends…