Mr. Ed is Dead: WARNING gross details to follow
JUST when I think nothing here in Mexico could possibly shock me anymore, something does. I mean, I have lived here for more that 16 years now! But, alas, once in awhile I am thrown for a loop.
Mr. Ed. You all remember him, right? A horse is a horse, of course, of course..... Well, the horse we came upon the other day was not the kind of horse you would be accustomed to seeing. Nor was it´s means of transportation.
So, here I am, driving out to the park by the airport for our final farewell pic-nic party for our summer intern. Got the pic-nic blanket, got the homemade chocolate cake, got two eager children by my side. Mixed emotions, excitement about a day in the park with the pre-teens, sad about Zach leaving us.
As we drove through traffic my mind was far away (probably on that chocolate cake) and I was just trying to get through traffic to our destination. Then, out of the blue, my 10 year old boy says, "IIEEEUUU! Look at that horse!" And there it was.
I don´t know what had happened to the poor thing, but it was now stuffed in the back of a small nissan-type police truck. It`s head hanging down over the back bumper, it`s body crammed into the pick-up bed. Apart from the idea of a dead horse, there was, yes you guessed it, BLOOD. EV -RY -WHERE! OK, maybe it wasn´t everywhere, for me a paper cut causes bood to go everywhere, but there was blood! Very evident blood. And every time we went over a speed bump, its dangling head dragged on the ground. In my horror, I loudly commanded, "TURN AWAY KIDS, JUST TURN AWAY!!!"
I say "every time" because, yes, we road alongside the demised animal for quite some ways. As hard as I tried to speed up and go around him, the vehicle in front of me would slow down, forcing us to "enjoy" another very close look. The policemen riding in the back with Mr. Ed were laughing and acting as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Or maybe they were laughing at the horrified look on the "gringa" in the next lane.
FINALLY, after what seemed like an eternity, I managed to do a "James-Bond-chase-scene" manuver and get around the horror. We finally arrived at the park, and the kids jumped out excited to play soccer and ride skateboard, seemingly haven forgotten about our horrific encounter. I still shudder to think of the poor, dead Mr. Ed.
Mr. Ed. You all remember him, right? A horse is a horse, of course, of course..... Well, the horse we came upon the other day was not the kind of horse you would be accustomed to seeing. Nor was it´s means of transportation.
So, here I am, driving out to the park by the airport for our final farewell pic-nic party for our summer intern. Got the pic-nic blanket, got the homemade chocolate cake, got two eager children by my side. Mixed emotions, excitement about a day in the park with the pre-teens, sad about Zach leaving us.
As we drove through traffic my mind was far away (probably on that chocolate cake) and I was just trying to get through traffic to our destination. Then, out of the blue, my 10 year old boy says, "IIEEEUUU! Look at that horse!" And there it was.
I don´t know what had happened to the poor thing, but it was now stuffed in the back of a small nissan-type police truck. It`s head hanging down over the back bumper, it`s body crammed into the pick-up bed. Apart from the idea of a dead horse, there was, yes you guessed it, BLOOD. EV -RY -WHERE! OK, maybe it wasn´t everywhere, for me a paper cut causes bood to go everywhere, but there was blood! Very evident blood. And every time we went over a speed bump, its dangling head dragged on the ground. In my horror, I loudly commanded, "TURN AWAY KIDS, JUST TURN AWAY!!!"
I say "every time" because, yes, we road alongside the demised animal for quite some ways. As hard as I tried to speed up and go around him, the vehicle in front of me would slow down, forcing us to "enjoy" another very close look. The policemen riding in the back with Mr. Ed were laughing and acting as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Or maybe they were laughing at the horrified look on the "gringa" in the next lane.
FINALLY, after what seemed like an eternity, I managed to do a "James-Bond-chase-scene" manuver and get around the horror. We finally arrived at the park, and the kids jumped out excited to play soccer and ride skateboard, seemingly haven forgotten about our horrific encounter. I still shudder to think of the poor, dead Mr. Ed.
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