Some people wonder what's so interesting about a dump. There's not even any trash there...just logs and stuff the city moves around every once in a while just for the hell of it. But those who've never been there just don't know...




The portal...the jumping off point. I'd like to go riding in the dump, but the portal is locked...I have to squeeze through and Cujo goes under. Oh, well. Nothing much at this point, this is the no man's land...just a dirt track through some trees...



The citadel. It looms up suddenly, like it snuck up on you. You find yourself facing a monolithic creation and its guardian...and from here on out, you're not in Kansas anymore, Toto. That's Dogzilla in there.



The gravestones. They sit there, useless. I haven't a clue what they were...they just are. So they sit, useless, hulking, rotting things. No one cares. Not even Cujo.



The outpost. No guardians this time. Just a lonely place with a picnic table overgrown by weeds. If it wasn't so, I'd sit down and eat lunch here some day.

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The fortress. Piles of rocks, trees, general rubble. There are usually three guardians here...only one today. The machines sit dead on the ground, holding silent vigil over useless piles of unwanted scrap.



The missing guardians. They must have been out scouting near the big piles of earth.



Cujo's whole reason for the trip. She loves water, and swimming in a big pond of dirty, stinky water is her idea of heaven.

The shrine. I've never seen anything like this before. You hardly ever see bones. They usually get lost, buried, or eaten. I don't take David back here because he wouldn't care. I don't touch the bones. I just moved the jaw to get a better look at it. But David would take them, want to claim this as his own. So human. It's time to leave at this point. The generosity of nature only goes so far, and Cujo is tired. A mile walk is nothing for me, but she'd rather lay on the porch and bark at the cats. Oh, well. Back to the noisy place...