Thursday, January 3, 2013

That’s a Man’s Job

This past weekend a mutilated bunny appeared in my backyard.  I’m not sure if Rigby caught one of the many that hop through the neighborhood or if another animal – neighbor’s cat, coyote, hawk, raven – is to blame.  Anyhow, the poor little bunny was torn and broken.  I could barely even look at it.  It gave me the heebie jeebies. 

For Saturday night and all day Sunday I thought about ways to get it out of the backyard.  But everything I came up with would make me have to look at it, which I couldn’t do. 

I’ve never been as much of a chicken when it comes to bugs and spiders.  Even though I whimper or scream the entire time, I am able to remove unwanted ones.  When it comes to bigger animals like birds or mammals, well that’s where the line is drawn.  Sitting near the mountains, my neighborhood is inundated with local wildlife, so this is not the first time I’ve had to deal with a dead animal.  There were a few years when I first moved in that I was afraid I’d be called the “animal killer” for as much dead wildlife I had in the front and back yards.  And I love animals! 

Once there was a giant dead rat in the street in front of my house.  Luckily, my friend Mike (who had to park right next to it) was over and graciously offered to remove it for me.  I’ve also had various baby birds fall from their nests and many small rodents left scattered about.  Between various guys I know and the gardeners, they were cleaned up as well without too much trouble on my part.

So this weekend, I could have called a friend to help, but I hate to call them for help with stupid stuff like this – things I’m physically capable of doing, but not mentally.  I then remembered someone once telling me that the city’s animal control services that kind of thing.  Before asking any friends, I waited through the weekend – not being able to put the dog in the yard – and called animal control on Monday morning, just to see what they’d say.  The operator I spoke with took all my information and was very helpful.  She said someone would be out by the end of the day.  That was great.  They would send out some man to clean it up, and I wouldn’t have to use one of my friend cards. 

Mid afternoon, I heard the truck arrive and then the doorbell rang.  I was relieved they had arrived.  However, I was surprised when I opened the door and…they had sent a woman!  That’s right, animal control sent a woman to clean up the dead bunny at the home of a woman who was too chicken to clean it up.  My relief of having the thing removed was somewhat overpowered by my embarrassment for being too much of a baby to have taken care of it myself.  It’s kind of hard to play the helpless-woman-thing with another woman.

I smiled politely the whole time and thanked her profusely.  “I just couldn’t even look at it,” I kept saying.  She nodded on her way out and said, “Ya, it’s pretty gross,” before she left.  Which probably meant, “Next time put on your big-girl pants princess!”

While sharing my tale, I was told a story about a guy I know who had to ask the next-door neighbor lady to take a mouse nest out of his garage.  He wasn’t able to stomach it.

I would say I’m a fairly modern woman, and know we are perfectly capable of doing things without a man’s help, but isn’t it funny that I just assumed the person coming to clean up the dead animal would be a man.  Asking a woman friend to help with a dead animal would never have occurred to me assuming they’d be as grossed out by it as I was, and I’d assume that a man would be perfectly fine completing that task.  Clearly, I was incorrect on both accounts.

19 comments:

  1. Meah, we all have little chinks. They tend to balance out too, where your bit of a flap about the dead carcase might be another's about heights or drowning. I imaging where my friend was in Zambia over the Victoria falls wouldn't trill me over much. I'd probably do it but wouldn't like it. I'd say it's when you have one for every occasion that it might be time to have a chat with someone.
    I remember years ago when I was going out with a girl in London and she tried that helpless princess crap with a little girl voice, I rather swiftly disabused her of that rubbish. It's hard enough taking care of oneself without someone dragging out of you.
    I have to laugh though at the woman turning up.

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    1. Never once was I embarrassed for not wanting to deal with a dead animal - there are a lot of people who are bothered by blood and guts - until she showed up at my door. Completely unwarranted embarrassment I'm sure, but it was funny how it got me thinking.
      You're right, there's not a lot you can do about your fears, they are what they are.

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    2. That 'big girl pants' had me mystified for ages. I was picturing everything from Bridget Jones to a scrap attached to a few bits of dental floss. I couldn't work out how it would work with a spade and a rubbish bag. It has only just dawned that is means take off the nappy/diaper and learn to hold your sphincter.

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    3. Ha ha! Exactly. To just suck it up and be brave! :)

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  2. I am a total wus when it comes to bugs, rodents etc.. I once had to trap a cockroach underneath a cup and wait till my manly man come home and took care of it for me.
    on the flip side while my mother too is not a fan of creepy crawly's it is she who calls the gardener and keeps an eye on the lizard till he comes while my dad hides out in the bedroom.. he's not afraid of anything else but when it comes to lizard he is behind closed doors.

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    1. Ha ha! Your cockroach story is funny. When I kill bugs in the house it usually consists of me throwing something on or over it while shrieking and throwing my hands in the air wildly. A slight manic dance might accompany it as well depending on the size of the thing. Regardless, it gets the job done. :)

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  3. Gahk!

    With the amount of rats and mice caught in my classroom I have learned to "remove" myself from the situation and dispose of the said critter. After taking care of a cancer patient there isn't much I can't stomach!

    Happy rest of your break :)

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    1. Yah, after your tales of unwanted animals visits in your classroom, I'd have to move schools.
      And, you are right about losing the queezy stomach when needed. As much as blood and guts causes me great panic, on the occasion(s) when you have to deal with it for something serious and real, you do what you gotta do.

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  4. Oh who cares...manor woman...everyone has their gross out point! For me, it is spiders. My dad has been known to scream like a girl when dead rats pop up in his pool! ;)

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    1. So guess who I'm calling for the next dead animal (and not your dad)...I'll take care of your spiders in trade.

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  5. Ha, ha, Vince said "sphincter".

    Squeamishness does not discriminate.

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    1. Ha! He did...do you think he giggled when he typed it like I know you did. ;)

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  6. Oh my gosh Pumpkin : ) that is too funny!
    I totally feel your pain! One time our kitty brought a LIVE BIRD into the living room and started trying to kill it in front of me. I thought I was going to die!

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    1. Growing up we had a cat that left dead things on our doorstep. Blech!

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  7. I would have buried the bunny and had a funeral. :)

    Ok, I would have made Ben bury it.

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    1. Ha! That's what I thought in my mind when I read the first sentences - no way, she'd have her husband do it...and so would I! :)

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  8. There is no way I could have done it. Some people can regardless of gender, but it's also true that chickens come in both genders.

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  9. I am afraid despite all my lip service to feminism, I am guilty of this.

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