Roadkill

While I was trying so hard to relocate the mice of my neighborhood, I managed to run over a squirrel yesterday. It made me feel just a little sick.

I’ve always amazed at how those squirrels dart out and at the last second know just when to retreat or even manage to run under a moving car unscathed.

But not so today. I wasn’t even speeding, which is slightly unusual for me. He just ran out as I slowly drove down a neighborhood street and I heard the sickening thud as my tire obviously went over him. I looked back in my rear view mirror and saw his tail moving, but he was still in the middle of the road.

As I returned from my errand, I hoped to see that he had been stunned and had managed to get up and run on across the road after I left the scene.

But alas, there was the dead squirrel in the middle of the road. It was not a gory bloody scene, but he was quite dead and his tail was now still.

It made me remember the time my father, who drove about 10 m.p.h. all the time, hit a neighbor’s dog. The dog had just run out into the street and he couldn’t stop. It seems a little worse in the scheme of things than hitting a squirrel, but a dead animal is a dead animal and it plays on your conscience in any event.

I wondered if this was one of those acorn-starved squirrels, who was so depressed about the depleted food supply that he just threw himself under my wheels. I’ll never know.