As a woman who loves brisk morning walks, I was excited to adopt a dog who could join me on my morning routine. I expected peaceful morning walks with my new companion, Gertie. That did not happen. I’m sure you’ve seen the headlines about the unsuspecting woman whose dog found a corpse during their morning walk. That woman is me. That is my dog. And it wasn’t the only time.

At first, I thought it was a fluke. Gertie sniffed out a corpse in the dumpster right by the coffee shop I am “no longer welcome at under any circumstances.” I screamed at the top of my lungs, then the owner of the coffee shop called the cops. Gertie and I stayed for four hours while they questioned us. It was a little tedious, but also a little exciting. They used a good picture of me in the paper.

Unfortunately, it happened again the next week. During my morning jog on the beach, Gertie got off leash and dug a hole. She eventually dug up a finger, which was attached to a dead human body. That case is still pending and Gertie is a witness for the state so I can’t really say more about it. It’s extremely frustrating, especially when I cannot share details of this extremely grizzly yet interesting case.

I tried hiring dog walkers, but I was banned from all those apps because my dog became infamous for always turning up a corpse or two. She is a local celebrity. And not the good kind, like that kid from my town who was elected mayor at 13. She’s like my awful landlord Bradley who leaves passive-aggressive notes on my door saying “Can your dog predict when people die?” and “I’m too young to die!” I paid the $250 pet deposit, Bradley! She’s not going anywhere!

One time my dog found just a mouth. I didn’t even tell anyone about that one.

Of course, I feel for the victims of these crimes. I know I shouldn't complain since I’m alive and all, but my life has been negatively affected! I am absolutely always late to work. I have never held a job for more than a few weeks because inevitably my dog will find a body and then, next thing you know I’m answering questions from the local police and then they call in the state police because it turns out that I just helped solve a decades-long cold case to find The Woman Killer. Your boss can only hear that so many times before she finds someone else to fill your position.

Guess what happened a few days later? The brother of the Woman Killer kidnapped Gertie and I so we couldn’t testify and I missed a week of work. That was after I was already on thin ice!

Romance? Forget about it! Before I got Gertie, my live-in boyfriend was about to propose. Unfortunately, Gertie would hide bits of corpses she found under the sheets, Godfather-style. My boyfriend hated it and left. Now I’m single as a clam.

I took a long, hard look at Gertie and asked her “Do you hate me? Why are you doing this to me?” But she didn’t respond, because she is a dog. I hate to take my anger out on Gertie, but sometimes it feels like she has it out for me.

The 911 operators know my number, and sometimes they won’t even pick up because they know it’s going to be bad news. I’m like the girl who cried wolf, every time there is a wolf. And the wolf is actual human remains that my dog found. The police have pretty much had it with me because they said I’ve increased the city's unsolved crime rate by 425%, which seems impossible math-wise.

Look, I’m not trying to make this all about me. It is very sad when people die. But it is also extremely inconvenient for my daily routine. Being the woman whose dog finds bodies has become my identity and taken over my life. People don’t want to hear about how my day is or how I’m feeling. No, they just want to hear about what a contractor bag full of feet looks like.

I got fired hard by my boss, but Gertie and I already have a new job offer! We got a letter from Quantico and they want to hire Gertie to be a corpse sniffing dog. Is this the direction I thought my life would take once I got a dog? Absolutely not! Am I happy about that? Also, no.


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