Member-only story
I Nearly Killed That Squirrel
It would’ve been my first roadkill in 47 years of near misses
I was driving with a friend some years ago. I was in the passenger seat. Kirby was driving. I saw the damn squirrel on the road, and he didn’t even blink. He didn’t swerve or decelerate.
Kirby ran over that critter like it wasn’t even there. The poor squirrel never had a chance. The guy chuckled and said, “Hit a squirrel” He continued whatever dumb conversation we were having at the time.
The other day, I was racing to the train station as I do every morning, leaving myself a narrow margin of time. One slow driver in front of me or one stoplight too many makes the difference in making my train sometimes.
It was an empty side street, where the presumptuous rodent nearly met its fate. I slammed on the breaks, and anything unsecured in my backseat projected to the front. Of course, I wouldn’t react that way if a vehicle is close behind me on a highway.
Maybe I’m a little too sensitive, but I know if I squished that squirrel, it would have sat with me for a while. And I’d have a reminder as I drive past the decomposing carcass every morning for weeks. I’m too curious and set in my rituals to change my route.
I don’t know. Am I maladjusted to be overly sensitive about killing squirrels? Is it better to handle it like an emotionless Vulcan, like Kirby?
It could be each reaction represents an extreme on the sensitivity spectrum. It might be best to sit someplace in between the two.
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