Fun's Fun, But That's Not Fun!

Red Squirrel
Rockport, Maine
December 2004

"Fun's Fun, But That's Not Fun!"

You know what, I don't even know what that's supposed to mean, but Bernard tells me his Moms always used to say that to him when he did something he wasn't supposed to be doing. I guess if you can attach a mother voice it, it starts to make some sense. Any way, this post has little to do with that.

I hit a squirrel today — with the car.

I don't know if you've ever hit anything with a car before, but there's this sick feeling you (I) get in the pit of my stomach when something like this happens. (Although, this has happened only one other time before. But I remember that feeling. I do not like it.) I'm not one of those people who sees squirrels (or seagulls, or pigeons, for that matter) and has one of those little 'I wish I could kill those little effers! Rats with tails (or wings — in the case of seagulls and pigeons)! That's what they are!' moments — freaking the person, that thought they knew who you were — out just a little more then maybe you ever wanted. (Or they wanted to be, by somebody they thought they knew.) You know what I mean?

The squirrel lived. I think. I saw it run off to the side of the road and into the woods before I turned the next corner. I want to belief that I just grazed the little thing. I hope I'm right.

Drive carefully, and love the little animals. Outie!

•••

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