Today I killed a skunk.I've never before killed an animal, even accidentally. I once nearly took out an oncoming car and a few innocent bystanders as I swerved to miss a squirrel...but never have I taken a life.
On The Commute this morning, I was cruising along in the rain, minding my own business, when a skunk just waddled right in front of my speeding car.
I swerved a bit to try to avoid it, but the road was very wet and there were other cars around and, well, I'm afraid I crushed its skull with my front, right Yokohama. Ugh.
Note to other operators of motorized vehicles: Skunks cannot - or do not - turn on a dime and scamper back to the curb like squirrels. Also, apparently, they are extremely nearsighted and deaf. The car in front of my barely missed him and he just kept on comin'.
Based on this experience I've learned there is a precise sequence of events that takes place when a woman - or any sensitive human - commits vehicular critter homicide:
a.k.a. - Order of Operation When You Kill a Baby Skunk's Momma:
1. Gasp so as to suck all the air out of the car
2. Scream
3. Cup hand over mouth to squelch scream
4. Try really hard not to look in rear-view mirror, but fail
5. Burst immediately into tears
6. Pick up telephone and confess to whomever normally acts as your confessor (The Hubster)
6. Pick up telephone and confess to whomever normally acts as your confessor (The Hubster)
7. Continue to cry in traffic
8. Cry some more
9. Try hard not to look in rear-view mirror at how horribly your makeup is ruined, but fail
10. Try not to imagine all the baby skunks back at the nest waiting for momma to bring back breakfast.
11. Fail miserably.
12. Cry some more.
You'd think that after a dozen years living in rural America I'd have toughened up a bit, but as a recovering vegetarian I think I'm incapable of it. Back in the burrow of every dead animal is someone who misses it. Even if it's a stinky fluffy rat with Paulie Walnuts whitewalls.
The irony? The cartoon - including Pepe le Pew - valentines I was going to send out this year.
I think I'll go buy some Ann Coulter valentines and hope for a repeat incident. That'd cheer me up. *sigh*
Comments
On the other hand, a deer hit ME once and I hope that sucker SUFFERED.
And that's why I love you. :o)
I can still remember the sound, the thud, the muffled quack on the point of Daffy/car door interface.
Anyone for Duck a la Alfa Romeo?
And it wouldn't be good to actually kill Ann Coulter. You know, the whole martyr thing. Just wound her in such a way that she can't write books or be on tv anymore.
Not all at the same time.
The dog was on an ice covered gravel road and I was in a 10 ton truck with a trailer on. I saw he looked at me, made eye contact, and sped up to try and beat me to the intersection. All that did was make sure that he was under the wheels and I nearly ditched the truck but there was no stopping in time.
I prefer to think that he was intending to do it and had thought about it several times. I'm betting that if you checked, he would've had scars on his wrists/ankles.
We hit a large hawk not long ago. It was heartbreaking. (And expensive to fix the car.)
Blimey. That's an American export we don't want, thanks....