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Backyards. We love our sanctity. Nothing like enjoying an afternoon with your family, friends and pets in the backyard. Peace, fun, just good old fashioned passing of time by throwing the ball around. Then your dog brings you a bone. It's not like I have lived here a short time, 11 years now. 2nd dog. 1 kid moved out. 1 still in the nest.

Normally I would laugh about a bone, but when it is the length of your 14 year old's forearm you get a little nervous. Called non-emergency phone line:

"I hate to bother you guys, but my dog found a bone in my backyard."

We talked for about a minute, she said someone will be out. 10 minutes later sherriffs are at my house. They talk to each other after examining the bone:

"Who should we call?" one says.

"Homicide, forensics unit." other says.

Several vehicles later forensics arrive within 30 minutes and take a very quick look and says "animal bone." Yes I am relieved to hear this. Of course forensic guy wants to keep the bone, why? "I collect them," as a grin creeps in on his face. 

That was a little scary too.

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