I ask Pilot tonight what he wants me to write about in this salty post. He doesn't care, but he makes some suggestions anyway. I can talk about the jellyfish that washed ashore a week ago. Crispy edges sealing in a gooey middle that smells like rotting water. I can talk about how the crows follow him around, how he doesn't mind but can't understand why they're wasting their time when I'm the one wielding the snacks.
"Do you want me to say anything about the dead bloated otter?" I ask him, remembering how fascinated we both were by it. Pilot thinks about this for a moment.
"No," he says finally. "People can't wrap their heads around cute furry things rotting, so they make an aww noise and a sad face and beat themselves up inside about not feeling anything. Say something about the barefoot old man collecting tiny shards of driftwood in a rubber shoe, instead. About how he looked at you like he was astonished that you could see him and for a moment you thought he was a ghost."
"That was weird."
"Yep. But no weirder than a middle-aged girl and her dog having a conversation."
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I think I would have liked to hear of the otter 😃😃
Ok! I'll let Pilot tell you this one. Here he is:
"It was actually my mom who pointed it out. We both thought it was a baby harbor seal because of the stoutness of the body, but when we got closer she announced that it was an otter. She said something about it being an otter full of water, like death is some kind of joke, but I ignored her. I love her but she really can be a crass and insensitive bitch sometimes. Anyway, I think the carcass had just washed up because I don't remember seeing or smelling it when we passed that way twenty minutes earlier. It was still soaking wet, right at the water's edge. I'm admittedly kind of scared of the ocean, so in order to check it out I had to run up to the body when the waves rolled out, and run away when they rolled in. But I got a good whiff. It was bad. Some dogs like the smell of dead things but I am definitely not one of those dogs. It was still fascinating, though. Otter have little hands, in case you didn't know, but this one's were bloated up fat and stiff and blue. Its eyes looked to have been eaten away, and part of its face was peeling off at the jaw. My mom was poking at it with a piece of driftwood and chirping something about how she wished she could keep the skull but there was no way to get it, plus keeping it would be illegal. That would have been kind of neat, I guess. We have a lot of bones at home."
Who doesnt want an otter's skull!
I am still giggling at an otter full of water it just rolls off the tongue!
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Adorable Pilot, he has such an intelligent face... and -as always coming from you- written lines that fascinate me to read... A barefoot old man collecting pieces of wood... I could see him just by reading it... People who talk to animals also have the ability to transmit like that...
!discovery 35
!PIZZA
I do wonder what/who I saw. I can't recall seeing him leave, but I didn't see him again.
Pilot says he turned into a mist and floated away. I think he's fucking with me.
$PIZZA slices delivered:
(15/15) @jlinaresp tipped @corvidae
I usually take photos of all the 'Dead Things' that I encounter but never really have done anything with them because of that reaction.
I like dead things, though really I prefer to see them in person and poke them.
If you can't smell the dead, does it even count? Sames, it's much more fun that way.
If a tree farts in the woods, does it make a smell?