My desk in my office faces a giant window. I often look at that window. When I say often, I actually mean a good portion of my day. And since my office is on the ground floor I spend that good portion of my day watching the cute furry things play. But no longer. Now I am thinking of permanently keeping the blinds shut. Why? You ask. Because people drive too fast. The clinic is on a residential street. It is not the highway or a main drag where 40 mph is fine. A college campus is across the street, houses (granted they are lived in by said college kids and not families of 4) line the streets and yes the furry things cavort and play.
Dory was staring out the window with me as I collected my things, deciding to make it a half day since I had finished all of my paperwork and was instead reading the latest headlines on MSNBC.com, when she gasped 'Oh my god that squirrel just got hit.' I of course, look (Sadly I am one of those individuals who would look if you pointed in the other direction and yelled, 'Look a badger with a gun') Not a good idea. One of my fine furry little friends, who I was watching play only a moment ago with his friend Steve or maybe it was Sven (I get them confused), was in his last death throes except that he was more like running around in circles, very obviously mortally wounded. I think to date it was the most horrifying three seconds I have ever seen (I turned away as quickly as I had turned to see) In fact I ran from my office into the other room. How was I going to leave? Furry Little Friend was by my car. Could I kill him to put him out of his misery if he wasn't dead? Of course not. I am the girl who takes spiders in the house outside (though that is more of a superstition than anything....but still) I peek and take a look at Dory. She's turned away too. I am going to have to park somewhere new now, move my desk, so I am not revisted by my horrible 3 second memory. What's worse...I just took Lesley to Over the Hedge and am picturing Furry Little Friend as Steve Carrell's Hammy.
Finally Dory says, 'he isn't moving'. Somehow I am relieved. Though I am still saddened about Furry Little Friend now being mere Roadkill, at least he isn't in pain. I think that's what bothers me the most, seeing anything in pain. It's why I cannot hunt. Why I feel guilty over killing the goldfish for my Psych experiment (killing them was not the experiment...they just died, probably cause they were from Walmart) I look out the window again. Not as horrible now. Except F.L.F's buds and family come out of hiding. No joke. There were 6 squirrels just sitting there, some propped up on their hind legs on the sidewalk just looking into the street as if saying, "Uncle Jimmy? Uncle Jimmy why aren't you moving?" SOme of them go into the street. I want to run out and scold them. Do they want to get hit by a speeding car, driven by an irreverant college kid who was probably thinking 'score...10 points for the rodent with the bushy tail'. No. You go hide up in the big Cottonwood across the street and mourn.
Yes I am an odd woman. I can't help it. I am not a vegan, though sometimes you would think I would be due to my affinity for naming the small creatures playing outside of my office. Mostly I was just angry at the speeding car. I have seen one wreck already since I started working at the clinic six months ago. Some people shouldn't be allowed to drive. I am proud to say that yes I am a woman who brakes for squirrels, rabbits and any other warm blooded creature who stupidly meanders into the path of my vehicle. So far I haven't hit anything other than that one bird who committed suicide on my windshield when I was in Montana and that wasn't even this car. This car is animal homicide free, thank you very much.
I drive home eventually. I need to watch something fuzzy. Except not with cute fuzzy animals...Bambi - right out. Maybe a little Ed vs Spencer (nothing like two English blokes doing truly stupid things or doing them to one another...check your BBC America channel. Funny, funny stuff) Of course as I am parking in the garage, I notice a rock by the door. A skittish rock. It's a baby bunny. I have to actually get out of my car and scare it into the grass, afraid that it will stupidly embrace my front tires and therefore leaving me in complete tears.
Be kind to our cute little furry friends. Be nice. Slow down. Just do it for my sake. That is all.