Bushes

Based on the smell, I think a small cat has died in the bushes that surround my apartment building. If I am correct, it has been there for over a week, decomposing.

The resulting aroma is quite foul; if you let an uncooked steak sit out for a week, then placed it on a soggy carpet next to a used diaper, you could possibly reproduce the recipe of stink which lives in those bushes maybe.

I suspect that it is a cat because I have smelled a dead cat before. Years ago, a cat died in the bushes of our neighbor’s backyard while they were away on vacation; it was nearly two weeks before anything was done, and even after its body was removed, the stench remained for days. I don’t know what it is about bushes, but they seem to attract dying cats

There are certain smells, which, once smelled, can never be unsmelled. Although it was many years ago, the odor from the bushes instantly brought back memories of the dead cat from my neighbors backyard. Typically, when animals die, the smell starts off small and grows stronger and may linger for days, sometimes weeks. In this case, what began as an irritable scent has now become a highly sour, stinging stink; one that I can only describe as a cross between hot garbage and an old mop.

It is unbearable.

Usually, one could wait for the dead carcass to dry out, which would eventually eliminate the odor; but the irregular weather patterns of the past week have only added to the wretchedness living beneath the bushes. Baking heat, followed by light showers mixed with last week’s cold front has upgraded the dead cat’s smell into a new category of stink: imagine the combined scent of honey-smoked bacon, wet socks and death, only then can you appreciate the mist that has been seeping from beneath the bushes which surround my apartment building.

When I invite friends over, they each have their own theory as to what is lying beneath those bushes: some say rotten eggs while others believe it to be a dead squirrel, still others believe it may be a broken sewage pipe. But I know better; it is a smell I have smelled before — several years ago — and believe me when I tell you, nothing stinks like a dead cat.

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