The bone was too large to be that of a cat and too small to be from a cow.

Something had chewed both ends except for part of a round ball joint—a leg bone.

The bone was oddly colored, a putrid yellow-gray and a hint of purple in the middle.

Maverick wouldn't touch it.

The bone looked soft, fresh, and quizzical.

It wasn't stark white, like the kind you get from the butcher shop or the kind you see wrapped in plastic in the grocery store. It hadn't just come from the oven, and the ants hadn't made their way to the mountain of treasure.

I wasn't sure what to do. Maybe it came from a goat or baby deer. My neighbors don't own either.

Whatever it belonged to, something dragged it there. The dog (coyote?) chewing it left after a time and did not return.

Maybe I'll investigate, but the shrubbery in that area has grown dense and thick with garbage and scrap metal. With the heat, I'm not sure I want to disturb whatever is bedded down, whether a homeless person, animal, or a larger version of an eight-legged critter.

Best-case scenario, it was hauled off from a baby deer carcass, or a neighbor brought home a freshly butchered animal and gave the bone away to something that took it there.

Worst-case scenario, there will be a squad car, somebody with a camera, a small yellow tent cone, and some yellow tape.

I wanted to work on projects today, not investigate unknown remains.