We recently had a situation in which we began to fully understand where our Canadian tax dollars went. Here in Panama there's so much to love, great weather, great beaches, beautiful wildlife, etc etc. The list is long. However, there are some basic services that are missing. Services that we rely on. Services that are paid for by our municipal (I think?) tax dollars at home in Canada. Like animal control.
If an animal is hit and killed on your residential street in Canada there's someone to call to take care of it. I don't know who...everytime I've ever seen a dead animal in said situation it's usually gone the next time I look. Some mysterious service, that I've never had to give a second thought to, does the job of coming to take the poor creature away. It's a given.
Here in Panama...not quite the same. No mysterious service to pick up dead animals. The tax dollars are needed elsewhere and rightfully so. However, when a very dead cat is sitting outside of your patio door and your two small children are able to see, in graphic detail, the entire decomposition/back-to-the-earth cycle you begin to feel like you might have to take the whole thing into "your own two hands". Ha.
Rob did just that. Awesome dad that he is. Here's his account...
"The limits of my dedication as a father were well tested a couple weeks ago. A small white cat was killed in the street directly in front of our condo building. Directly in front of our 1st floor balcony to be precise. There it lay, blood-splotched white cat rotting in the gutter. In the gutter that you had to walk past to get the kids to school. Day 2 - there it lay. Panama being Panama, there would be no expectation of this thing being cleaned up before it simply washed down the sewer grate. So when I came back from Lima, the first job I had was to go out with garbage bag in hand and peel said dead cat from the road to spare innocent Max and Zella from a graphic lesson in post-mortem mammalian physiology. After answering Max's question the next morning about where the cat had gone, I heard nothing but "touch it?" "with your hand?" for the next two days."
So that was Rob, 20 minutes back from the airport and Peru. In full business attire plucking dead cat from the road. Our neighbours think we're crazy.:)