Wildlife II

I saw another rat in the street today. This one was dead. It looked like someone had killed it. I was amazed by how big its fangs were. Not that I was poking at it, it had just died with its mouth open. I swear. I didn't touch it. Part of me wanted to though. Maybe with a stick or something.
I've been told by an expert source on Alaskan culture that the Athabaskans (the native race of people in central Alaska) have strict conditions on the treatment of animal carcasses. The belief is that an animal's spirit lingers in its body after its death (for a varying period of time depending on the animal). Consequently, respect must be paid to a carcass as it would be to the living creature. For instance, when a trapped animal is brought inside to be skinned, it must be shielded from loud noises (particularly mechanical or metallic ones) and bad smells. In fact, the nostrils of the creature were sometimes sealed with lard to keep bad smells out. Also, one would never mock an animal's body by doing anything undignified or abusive to it. These ideas seem to apply both to animals intentionally killed for meat or fur and to regular old dead animals. The bad things that result from violating these taboos usually involve having lousy luck at hunting and trapping, as well as a more general state of being out of balance or harmony with one's surroundings.
My expert source told me this right after I threw a rock at a dead walrus' carcass we had come across on a beach just south of Nome, Alaska. (I wanted to see if it would explode from its decomposing gases). Fortunately, I missed. (hey, we made it out alive, didn't we, Amy?!!)
Maybe I'll leave the rats alone for now, I can use all the luck I can get over here.