Dead Fish Falling From the Sky

  Sometimes it pays to keep a watchful eye on your surroundings.  Other than the obvious threat of stepping on a cottonmouth while traipsing about the marsh, I usually feel relatively safe here on the Bayou.  With it being wintertime, even the threat of a snake is nil.  I do, however, worry about the old dog, Mr. PJ.  He is not accustomed to the hazards that come with living "in the wild".  So...I keep a watchful eye out for his safety.  He is great as protection...when he is aware of his surroundings but with age, his senses have dulled a bit and he often overlooks things.  Just today, that became apparent.

  I have always trained the dogs to do their "business" way down near the marsh on the east side of the property.  Here, there are two possible trails and the dogs have always preferred the lower one.  This way, I do not have to worry about a misstep into "their" territory.  My moccasins stay clean!  I usually just tell the dogs to "go down the hill" and do not have to lead them.  This has always worked in the past as it frees me from having to have a leash for the dogs and, also, gives the dogs a bit of "privacy" for their daily business trips.  Periodically, I do a check on the lower path just to make sure no potential hazards have popped up....or in today's case....plopped down.  

  I meandered down the lower path only with intentions of photographing a baby raccoon that was feeding on the mudflats. The little rascal scampered as soon as I neared the site so I decided to do my "path check", instead.  It is a good thing that I did.  That little raccoon could have inadvertently saved Mr. PJ, the dog, a good bit of pain.  The remains of a large catfish were sitting with the spine poking straight up.  Had the dog blindly been running down the path, he could have possibly stepped right on that spine.  There is nothing worse than getting one of those barbed fins stuck in your flesh and this one was a good four inches long.  That poor dog would have had an immediate emergency trip to the vet!  Obviously, an osprey had caught the catfish and carried it to the top of the tall pine along the edge of the path.  Here, the bird feasted but then dropped the hard head with fin intact.  The head fell with the dorsal fin sticking up like an arrow.  That fin and the pectoral fins are the ones that will do damage if they puncture flesh.  

  While it was about as nasty as things can get, I gingerly picked up the fish head by the dorsal fin and tossed it far out into the marsh.  There, Mr. PJ will never step on it.  Sometime during the night, I am positive that an otter or raccoon will make short work of the osprey's leftovers.  What bothers me most is that if the osprey has chosen this spot as its main roost, there will be more fish remains plopping down on that lower path.  This means that I will have to do daily checks instead of weekly or Mr. PJ may just have to choose to use the upper path as his bathroom.  We shall see.