Bones Gathered Together, Bones Carried, and Bones Reassembled Again

If your horse should suddenly fall apart one day, I am likely not the first person you should call to help you reassemble the parts into a horse again.  First of all, I might try to make a dog because I like dogs better than horses.  Secondly, my knowledge of anatomy is limited.  I know the end that eats and I know the end that poops.   That is about the extent of my knowledge.

I read that a horse has 205 bones.   A dog has 319 bones.  A human is comprised of 206 bones.  We (humans) are actually born with far more than 206 bones, but some of them fuse together as we grow.  In the long run we end up with 206.

Weird.

We (humans) also all start out in the womb sexed as a female, but that is another story.

A deer has a pile of bones.  That is…I found a pile of them yesterday while on a long walk near my house.

Honestly, a pile. 

Seemed to me that most everything was there too.  Big bones.  Little bones.  Bones that looked like alien spacecraft.  Bones that might work on a machine used for extruding plastic blobs into cups.  Bones extruded from a plastics machine.  All in one spot.  A bit jumbled.

With less thought than might actually be required for such a thing, I removed my shirt, fashioned a kind of bag from it, gingerly gathered most of the bones, and then stuffed the bones inside the make-shift bag.  I carried the bones for about a quarter of a mile inside my shirt.  I had in mind the thought that I might reassemble them into a more deerlike thing in a more appealing spot.

I did not mean for this to be an exercise macabre.  I am not sure what I meant.  Sometimes I am all instinct (maybe nonsense).

My apologies to the deer.

I have posted my efforts at reconstruction a quarter-mile from my initial gathering.     

--Mitchell Hegman