Think what your windshield would look like if they really did have wings
So, Uncle B says to me, “you’ve been really dour on your blog lately.” (Which he pronounces like “poor.” Cracks me up. This is bad, on account of when he tell me he’s in a dour mood, is not to snicker). I told him I’d lighten up this week.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: the doggie suicide bridge. It’s near Dumbarton in Western Scotland. In the last fifty years, fifty dogs have leapt to their deaths off this thing.
It’s always long-nosed breeds, it’s always on a clear day, and they always jump off at the same spot — the last low parapet on the right-hand side of the bridge, facing the estate.
Naturally, they’re blaming my cousin. Not the one who lives in Alabama, they’re blaming stinky minks. Minks are not native to the UK; they were introduced for the fur trade and got away from it just about the time dogs began offing themselves here. There’s a thriving population of them locally, and my goodness they do smell.
Smell would explain the long-nose breeds and the clear weather, but why the same spot every time?
Boo! Happy Monday!