One afternoon, Leah and I were chatting on the phone.

“One second,” she said abruptly and cut out.

“Okay, I’m back,” she told me breathlessly. Then she started laughing, “Do you want to know what I was just doing?”

Apparently on the route she walks with some friends from her community there’s a dead dog left to decay as it has died midway between the two towns so no one feels the responsibility to move it. While I was waiting for a second, she had been sprinting past the decaying corpse of a dog.

It made me remember the day when the plumber and I walked out to the water tank behind a man who was dragging a dog that had been hit by a car. He had tied a long piece of cloth around the neck of a dog and the dog’s legs were moving so it looked as if it were trying to run while lying on its side.