Baby Doll

I must mention a funny incident that happened this last Friday the 13th. I was on my way to work, taking a different route than usual down Fremont. I look to my left at one of Portland's beautiful parks, and I see something that I can't quite make out. As I get closer, I realize it's a pink baby carriage with white wheels, tipped over on its side. I kind of frown, and get even closer. That's when I see the little fleshy head toppled onto its side. I drive past and think, "Well, that SURELY has to be a baby doll, right? That's not, like, a real dead baby lying there, okay?" But I can only drive about another half block before my conscience swings into full gear with a huge "What If?" and I pull onto the side of the road, get out, and head up the embankment to the trail that leads to the little toppled one. I kind of walk-jog-run, hoping that I don't look ridiculous if it's just a doll but also not wanting to look like I'm just strollin' along if it's a human! So I draw near, take a deep break, and look. It's just a doll. Her pink head is just lying in the grass, and her body's all wrapped in a pink blanket while she's barely touching the carriage. Her blue eyes are wide open, and--surprisingly--her face is totally clean, like she'd just been left there recently. How random that was. How hilarious in retrospect. And how bizarre -- as B said, surely there's a story there. How and why did this baby doll get abandoned? What other stories does this park have to tell? How would I have felt if I just kept driving instead of stopping to check things out?