The End of the Road

I commute 55 miles every day in an area that is chock-full o’ wild life, so I it is not uncommon for me to encounter road kill. On my daily drive, I’ve seen: dogs, cats, porcupines, foxes, prairie dogs, squirrels, birds, deer, elk, raccoons; all in various states of damage on the side or smack dab in the middle of the road.

Today, I saw something that some might view as hitting the road kill lotto, a giant black cow. It was incredibly disturbing to see the amount of blood on the highway. People in India were probably weeping, not to mention the person who hit the giant animal and the farmer who owned it.

Random thought that popped into my head. How does one hit a cow? It’s not like they are a sprinting, leaping kind of animal. They’re slow. And careful. They chew their cud and rest in the shade. Perhaps I’m wrong about this. I mean there is a line in a nursery rhyme about a cow jumping over the moon. Maybe there is a secret life to cows that I’m not privy to. Anyway, someone hit a cow in open range country. Bummer. I wonder if they left a note on the cow?

Seeing road kill makes me sad. Hitting an animal with my car makes me even sadder. Thus far, it has only been a little chipmunk and a couple of birds, which always scares the hell out of me. They have wings. They should be able to get the hell out of the way in a quick manner.

So, what have you hit? Do you feel bad about it?