My Freezer .....

 Oh my fucking god! There's something in there! I just found it. Right at the bottom. Buried under the Dog meat. Tied up in a black bin bag. 

 What the fuck is it though?! I haven't the faintest clue. And, frankly? I'm in no mind to go opening that bag and seeing what slips out in front of me! It's horrible.

 Some sort of animal, by the feels of it. About the size of a gray squirrel on steroids, or something. Racking my fucking brain here, trying to remember ~ or work out ~ what the fuck it is. And why the hell I put it in there.

 Where could I have got it from? Killed it, presumably? Or picked it up dead? That should narrow it down. But, it doesn't. I can't remember anything I've killed which I'd have reason to stick in the freezer.

  I have a kestrel in there. I know that much. Found it dead on my track and took it up in case we could get a post mortem done. Check for rodenticides or what ever. But, that proved infeasible and now I'll probably use it as crow bait. That one's in a white sack.

 There's a meadow pipit in there, somewhere. Found that one, stone dead under the fence. Kept it in the hope of finding a Taxidermist who might use it. Probably a few little birds in there for that reason. Forgotten about.

 Mice too. Fuck loads of mice! I used to bag them up virtually by the pound and put them in there. All clean, trapped mice. Caught in places where there was guaranteed no bait around. 

 Not sure why I fuckin' did that either now. What the fuck was I thinking of?  I seriously wonder about myself, some times. Right about now is one of those times!

 Nilsen. Dahmer. Ditch Shitter. It doesn't bode too well, does it? I wonder if those two guys woke up in the morning, comfortably aware of what the fuck They had in their fridges and freezers? 

 Or, did they find a black bag one day. Think; " Hello ....? " And open it. " Aagh! Jesus fucking Christ!!!!! What The ....?! "

 I could give it to Pat', couldn't I? Pat's my answer to so many things around here. Say, " Here ye go, Pat. Want this? " He'd say, 'What is it?' And I could say; " Dunno. " And run away.

 Fuck it. Wish I'd never moved that Dog meat now. Look at the trauma it's caused me.