The thing that Dorothy drug up

Alternately titled: "Please, for the love of all that's good and decent, help us identify this thing so we can get our lives back. Please."

Disclaimer: I need to warn you that I'm fixing to post a totally heinous picture. Seriously, it's gross. If nasty dead things turn your stomach, come back later this week and I'll post about rainbows and sunshine and babies and happiness. If you decide to never come back after reading this, I completely understand. In fact, take me with you!

**********************************************************************************

My parents have a dog named Dorothy.

(She's an exceedingly modest girl. Can't ya tell?)

There she is. She can often be found in this exact position; she's a sucker for a good belly rub. And that guy right there, my dad, is her favorite human on the planet. In the whole universe!

I almost can't find the words to pinpoint Dorothy's personality. This girl isn't afraid to wave her freak flag really, really high. She's a lovable, friendly, good-natured, march-to-her-own-drum...weirdo. I wish she could talk to us; I can only imagine the stories she could tell.

She an outside girl and loves nothing more than to hang out with the cows in the pasture across the road. She fills her days "herding" the geese who make their home on the pond.

All this roaming around makes a girl tired, and if she's not out making her rounds, you'll find her napping in the sun on the back porch.

Dorothy has one teeny-tiny, itsy-bitsy personality flaw.

The girl really, really likes dead things. Like, really. Really, really, really. The deader, the better.

This personality flaw has resulted in a strictly-enforced "no touch" policy with yours truly. Dorothy and I love each other from a distance.

Seeing Dorothy's "treasure of the day" laying out in the back yard is commonplace. I'll spare you the details about some of the critters she's brought home in the past...you're welcome.

She drug something up last week and my parents were so horrified and confused, they had to take pictures. This is your last chance to back out...it's gross. It's a disembodied appendage. And it's gross. Real gross. I'm telling you!

*
*
*
*
*
*
*

What. The heck. Is. This?

Dorothy ain't talkin'.

More importantly, are there more of these...things? Where is their tribe living???

Nobody can figure out what animal this came from. We live in Alabama, and we can't figure out what kind of native animal has a leg like this. Next Door Neighbor Norm nonchalantly chimed in, "Well clearly, she's gotten after a monkey." Clearly.

Here are some guesses:
A) a chupacabra
B) a baby Bigfoot
C) an Alabama monkey (you know, the only one in existence)

Your guess? I don't have enough information to make a guess yet. I don't like any of the aformentioned choices, seeing as how they're all make-believe animals. Anybody in blogland have any ideas? Please help settle this; we're losing sleep. And our minds.

Oh, and the leg is no longer chillin' in the back yard. It's been disposed of. By Dorothy.

Thanks for loving me through (and despite) this.

I'll understand if you just can't.

*
*
*
*
*
(If you want more...and don't we all!...my dad posted them at http://dennisjweb.com/dorothy.html.)