A squirrel died in my yard. After a few rainy days it has melted. What do
Squirrels? Melted? You'd melted squirrels? π² What's the problem, exactly? That sounds amazing!
At least in my neck of the woods, judicious disposal of even only a few billion squirrel corpses is a NIGHTMARE. I don't know much of the squirrel-corpse Question back in the Old Country, but here in New Zealand, there's a Sinister Something about their diet or other environmental factor(s) that gunks squirrel cadavers into some kind of ceramic-steel super-hybrid. Anyone with a super-duper-bogan name like "Kylee" is likely a New Zealander too, so apologies if I'm telling you crap you already know; this post is for non-Kiwi observers.
Squirrel cadavers are twerkable enough at the instant of death (er, friends tell me), but a few hours of rigor mortis and they make asbestos look like Silly Putty. They just won't burn. Or melt. Shovel the dang things into Mt. Doom and Mt. Doom itself will congeal.
Seriously. We tried it. The actual real mountain that Mt. Doom is based on and filmed upon, Mt. Ngauruhoe, is apparently "the most continuously active volcano in New Zealand." But it hasn't gone bang since 1954. By the most astounding coincidence, this coincided with the NZ government's one and only attempt to dispose of some nine million exotic-invader squirrel corpses, pouring the damn things down the gullet of New Zealand's #1 Ferocious-est Volcano.
The volcano froze. A volcano. It FROZE.
Word on the street is, ever heard of the 100% Pure NZ Tourism ad campaign? Likely you have, or something similar. Most worldly citizens apparently consider New Zealand this pristine and delicate radiance of natural friggin' beauty. Eminently sightseeable. They should thus vamoose their patoot yonder imminently and spend serious tourist moola.
But as a kiwi local, I can however confirm that such resplendent virtue ain't down to New Zealand being uniquely hippie-ish. We generate just as much pollution per capita as anywhere else. But only five million citizens means less pollution total, don't it. Being the most isolated country in the world means any air pollution gets blown away to remote and (human)-deserted ocean pronto, and is therefore 100% safe and 100% pure so quit your bitching you hippie killjoy.
With one giant exception. Ground pollution.
To produce this immaculate Tourism facade of illustrious LUCRATIVE gorgeousness, word on the street is that NZ's government extracted and leached the country's gunky decades of terran foulness via techniques popularised by the world's Chernobyls: phytoremediation (planting sunflowers, of all things, which seem predisposed to vacuum-up the soil's gnarliest radioisotopes from the soil and into the plants), and mycoremediation (same again, but with mushrooms and other fungi, which is probably why toddlers hate eating them: they take a dim view of their elders and betters attempting poison-based discipline and/or granting them the kind of wicked-sick X-Men superpowers monetisable in movie franchises ... actually you know what, I've talked myself into scoffing irradiated mushrooms. They sound rad).
Squirrels adore such pollution. It's their Tim-Tams.
Word on the street is, this country's secret pollution cleanup policy involves breeding extra-hardass squirrels in their billions to chow down on ground pollutants nationwide, transferring them from soil to rodent. Problem is, the squirrels' ceramic'd and unincineratable corpses form increasingly monstrous heaps. Which swell skyward by the year. You can't ignore them. They're a menace.
And here's you. Another Kiwi. Bragging oh-so-casually that you're the first gal in the friggin' universe to melt the unmeltable.
That is ... amazing, sistah. Could I employ your yard and your rain for my own squirrel cadaver disposal needs? Could I dump only a few extra million twitchy-schnozzed corpses there? And just a few not-squirrels also? You know. Former clients. And I hear the good folks who brought us Chernobyl are still on the lookout for a neat hideaway to stash their Elephant's Foot; could you help a brother out?
That said ... me and my assumptions, eh? Maybe I've overestimated your stately grounds' character and vim. Maybe it's your yard that's melted. Maybe proximity to ceramic-asbestos rodents makes your yard go all gooey like it's in a Memphis Meltdown ad. It wouldn't be the first!