One day a helper and myself were sent to find a buried well. The boss told us he believed the well was just inside the gate to the back yard, and we would find a soft spot in front of a tree just under the snow. When we arrived on the job we went through the gate and found a soft spot in front of a tree and we started digging, the ground was soft like it had just been dug up recently, we were sure we were on the right track but did not find the top of the well pit, so I thought maybe there was no pit, (this is very common in upstate New York) so we figured we would have to dig at lease 3’ deep to find the well casing. But instead of finding the well casing we found a large black plastic bag, in the process of digging we ripped the bag and saw what looked like a baby blanket, my heart starts racing, and I say to my helper, this can’t be. But now we have to look inside the bag, so we clear all the dirt from around the bag and pull it out of the hole and opened it, there was a little bed inside and inside the little bed was the recently deceased French poodle. The owners of the home told there children the old story about the dog moving to a farm upstate, we almost blew it for them and we very quickly buried the dog and told the boss we did not find the well but we did dig up there dead dog. As it turned out this house had 2 driveways and 2 gates to the same back yard, once we figured out we went through the wrong gate we found the correct tree and found the pit cover just 6” under the dirt.