Profile of a Reader


When she saw us moving into the house across the alley, she knew she had a project on her hands. But it was more than one crafty woman could handle, so she threw a party and recruited some help. She gave us beautiful things she made and delicious food she cooked that she claimed no one in her own household would eat.  NDL had a keen eye for garden ecology and keep us updated on frog sightings, mushroom blooms, frost warnings.  So I could think of no better person to investigate the astonishingly large pile of dung that appeared on our sidewalk one Saturday morning.  We had heard that someone in the neighborhood, coming home at some remarkably late hour, had reported seeing a black bear wandering near our houses.  We stood over the dung pile, speculating.  Had the neighbor who reported seeing the bear been out to a Friday night fish fry followed by polka dancing at the Elk's Club where perhaps the Leinenkugels were on special?  In such a state could this neighbor have mistaken a dog or even a large raccoon for a black bear?  We prodded the dung with a stick.  We did an informal survey of passers by, some whom we knew, some whom we didn't.  Opinions were split.  I blocked off the dung pile with bricks so no one would step in it, using the excuse of our investigation to not clean it up quite yet. It wasn't until later in the afternoon that NDL confessed that it didn't look a thing like black bear dung.  By then, some anonymous and kindhearted neighbor (who evidently knew we needed all the help we could get) had cleaned up the mess.  I'm not pointing any fingers, but it was just the type of generous move that NDL specialized in.


  1. T'wasn't us who reported the bahr over thar !

  2. That was some amazing poo! And it gets bigger with every re-telling of the story.
    Perhaps we should have been looking for a wayward circus elephant.

  3. It doesn't even need to get bigger with every retelling, it was that big.