Herr Doktor Schroedinger, please come pick up your cat. It's in my backyard, it looks like the vial of hydrocyanic acid was broken open....

okay, this is a bit of dark humor. I did find a dead cat in my backyard this morning. I think it was a stray. It was disturbing to see it spread out amongst my zinnias.

I'm trying to get Animal Control to pick it up. But they won't come if no one's home, I've got research I MUST be doing, and when I called back and left my number and told them to call me if they were in the area and I would run home to meet them, I was told they were "very busy" and they didn't know if they could work things like that.

ARRRGGHHH! Like there are so many families left where one member of the couple stays at home all day any more - let alone all the widows and widowers and pitiful single women like myself -

It's illegal to put it in with my household waste. Frankly, I don't want to pick it up because there's a chance it died of something transmissable to humans. And I sure don't want to wait until Monday to get someone to deal with it.

I may just have to gut up, put on the closest thing I have to a sterile suit, and clean it up myself, then call animal control and say "I have a dead cat in a bag. It is not my cat. I think it is a stray. It could have died of rabies or some other disease you need to check for. I will be willing to drop it off if you tell me where to take it." I will not be happy, but I will do it.

Oh, and a poem (not a good one, but a poem nonetheless) about Shroedinger's Cat.