A few months back, a female undergraduate at this particular university of ours was asked by a professor of hers to care for his dog for the two weeks he was in Europe. She agreed, but, upon arriving at the professor's house for the first time, discovered that the dog, a large golden retriever, had died in the kitchen.
She eventually got a hold of the professor, who asked that she take care of the situation. She again agreed, though this was a rather large dog and she was not the largest or strongest woman. So she returned to her room to retrieve her large rolling duffle bag, which she intended to use in transporting the dog, apparently.
She eventually got a hold of the professor, who asked that she take care of the situation. She again agreed, though this was a rather large dog and she was not the largest or strongest woman. So she returned to her room to retrieve her large rolling duffle bag, which she intended to use in transporting the dog, apparently.
After locating a crematory and hailing a cab, dead dog in tow, the student came to realize that she did not, in fact, have enough cash and would have to take the T instead. The facility she had chosen was in Dorchester, but she decided against enlisting the help of a friend or returning to her room for additional cash. No, she took the T by herself and, after exiting the station, began dragging the carcas through the streets of Boston.
And, wouldn't you know it, after seeing her struggle, a nice older gentleman asked whether he could offer any assistance. They were, after all, walking in the same direction. She of course said that she would like that very much. Soon they got to talking, and the Good Samaritan inquired what precisely was in the bag he was lugging. She, not wanting to reveal that it was a dead dog, thereby arousing suspicion, replied that it was her stereo.
He, in turn, punched her in the face and took off running in the opposite direction.
Later that night on the evening news there was a very interesting segment on the local news, about a duffle bag that had been ditched on a bus--in that neighborhood, in fact--which had required the attention of the BPD's bomb squad.
We can only hope that they, not knowing what the bag contained, exploded it, as seems to be standard practice nowadays. If so, I'm sure the whole operation was taped--for official records, training, and such. I hope to one day stumble across it, though a search of Google video and YouTube of the phrase "bomb squad blows up dog" has yet to yield anything non-pornographic.
And, wouldn't you know it, after seeing her struggle, a nice older gentleman asked whether he could offer any assistance. They were, after all, walking in the same direction. She of course said that she would like that very much. Soon they got to talking, and the Good Samaritan inquired what precisely was in the bag he was lugging. She, not wanting to reveal that it was a dead dog, thereby arousing suspicion, replied that it was her stereo.
He, in turn, punched her in the face and took off running in the opposite direction.
Later that night on the evening news there was a very interesting segment on the local news, about a duffle bag that had been ditched on a bus--in that neighborhood, in fact--which had required the attention of the BPD's bomb squad.
We can only hope that they, not knowing what the bag contained, exploded it, as seems to be standard practice nowadays. If so, I'm sure the whole operation was taped--for official records, training, and such. I hope to one day stumble across it, though a search of Google video and YouTube of the phrase "bomb squad blows up dog" has yet to yield anything non-pornographic.
