The MetroWest Daily News reports:

Residents are being warned not to swim in Lake Washakum today despite the hot weather because they might meet up with an alligator, police said. ...

David Prior reports what happens when one of your dogs gets loose and decides to go after a skunk, which does what skunks do, after which the dog runs right into the house. You know it's pretty bad when National Grid shows up because the downstairs neighbor called to report what he thought was a gas leak.

I'm kind of glad Herald reporter O'Ryan Grylls Johnson didn't actually find that great white off Martha's Vineyard, because you know he would've tried to capture it and you know the thing would've eaten him and his boatmates because they wouldn't have a spare oxygen tank to kill it with and the Herald really can't afford to lose any more reporters.

But speaking as a recovering reporter who once went into the deepest woods of Weston with a moose hunter in search of a moose that had been hit by a car the day before, I applaud the Herald's new wildlife beat. When will the Herald be sending reporters up to the White Mountains to go mano-a-pawo with a bear?

We look for the beast outside Bartlett

Or to the Berkshires to go mano-a-talono with a bald eagle?

We look for the beast up a pine tree

I'd pay for video of that.

1. Make jewelery out of it.
2-101. Repeat.

Make it this one, about excessive droppings at the Brookline Reservoir.

Michael Burstein wonders:

When is it appropriate to interrupt a meeting at work to alert your co-workers to the presence of a red-tailed hawk?

Burstein found what seemed like an appropriate moment and so everybody broke for a few minutes and he took some photos of the hawk perched on the ledge outside their conference room nine stories above Copley Square today.

So before you start looking for a smelly cat, see if there are any ailanthus trees around.

Berto reports on a stare-down between a Revere diner cook and a bird.

Proof.

Coming home from downtown tonight, we saw a rabbit dart across the Jamaicaway (Arborway? Centre Street?) by the Poor Clare Nuns. The thing is, it had the light! Who knew they knew how to press the pedestrian-crossing button?