"To every thing turn, turn, turn....there is a season." (The lyrics to a Byrds song, or for you readers of the Bible, great words of wisdom.)
Yeah. I killed it. I am a big fat murderer. But, there was no premeditation, so it was not a homicide. Okay?
I know, an Armadillo should not be crossing the Interstate when I am driving. The untimely death of the Armadillo that was crossing Interstate-65 when I was driving home tonight brought new meaning to Sammy Haggard's "I can't drive 55." I guess he killed an Armadillo, too.....
The natural tendency for me, and maybe others, I don't know...is when you see something in the interstate you are about to hit is to either swerve, or slam on your brakes. I tried something new tonight, which was to hit the thing straight on.
You see, I work in a law office, as many of you know. People come into the office every day, hurt and mangled. They swerved.
I inherited a great general love for animals, any animals, from my parents. I would prefer a house full of dogs, and cats to people. As it is now, I have a dog and a cat. Not a husband, nor boyfriend. Yeah, my choice, believe it or not people.
I have peacefully lived with my 56lb dog for about three years now, which beats any record I have with living with a human being, since I moved out of my parent's house, that is.
Growing up, I had a German Short haried Pointer, named Pal, who met his demise by a train. Thankfully, my parents allowed me to believe that Pal just "went missing". I think I was maybe 25 when I finally asked them if he got hit by a train. I was glad that they lied to me, of course. But, I will just tell you something, I LOVED that dog.
The dog I currently own, named Roscoe is far from a purebred dog. However, his pedigree (the one I would have if he was) shows his full name as "Sir Roscoe P. Coe Train. (My 11 year old nephew who watches the Duke boy reruns religiously asked me recently where in the world I got the name Roscoe from.) When I confirmed to my young nephew that I had in fact borrowed the name from the Dukes of Hazard, he said first "I KNEW IT" and then, "I didn't know you watch that show." I explained to him that I once watched that show.
Anyway, if you read my dad's blog, you will find that they own some dogs of their own. One of my x-dogs, Emily (it is a long story that involves a shocking story, just kidding), their Rottweiller, Tiny (who is not tiny), and then my brother has this silly looking chihuaha mix named Stinky (don't ask).
My brother also owns a squirrel, who was as an infant abandoned by it's mamma. I will refrain from writing much about the squirrel, because I am the only one he likes to mark. Don't ask me.
Anyway, I have only recently realized that some people don't like dogs. I was in shock the day I discovered it.
One of the guys I used to date, and is still one of my best friends is an avid hunter. I asked him the other day if he enjoyed hunting for the hunt or the kill or both. He told me that it was definitely the kill.
Well, you won't ever catch me out there in the woods killing a deer, although I don't have any oppossition to hunting. I just could not bring myself to do it.
But, God help any human being who tries to mess with me. A bow and arrow, perhaps? Now, there is an idea.
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3 comments:
When I lived in FL (where roadkills are laid out like a dense minefield), many little froggies would meet their demise as I drove the back roads-literally hundreds of them in the street illuminated by my headlights-sad but true.
this is all making me hungry, lol.
One time we were driving home on a road with no lights when all of a sudden a white posssum came out of nowhere. I am pretty sure we hit it, but I didn't see the body, but then I couldn't see much of anything when I turned around. I felt like a murderer. Good post. Figures that Mickey wants a steak, right?
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