All my life as I have had run-ins, run-overs and near-misses with wildlife, I always thought – “Oh, they’re so dumb, oh, maybe they’re deaf and didn’t hear me, oh, maybe they were young and inexperienced in the ways of automobiles.” Yesterday, I had another near miss with a wild turkey. The circumstances made me wonder if, like us, some critters are simply depressed and suicidal. What can they do? They have no hotlines to call for help. The mountain road I was traveling has maybe one car on it every half hour, if that. She had twenty-nine other minutes to leisurely cross, but she chose the instant I was coming by. Inexplicable stupidity or death wish? I braked and missed her. Was she relieved to have a second chance at her birdy little life or angry to have to await another vehicle? She ruffled her tail feathers at me.
I suppose we’ll never know for sure, but I believe the evidence is stacking up. My daughter called me one Easter night in an uncustomary, semi-hysterical state. She had been driving home when, according to her, the largest rabbit she had ever seen hopped in front of her car and, well, then he was the flattest rabbit she had ever seen. She kept telling me she had killed the Easter Bunny. She was certain. So, was he just bummed out about delivering all those eggs? It was his busiest day of the year. Had he just had enough and snapped? It was a four-lane highway; not exactly bunny territory.
I myself performed an assisted suicide on two mourning doves. This pair must have had a pact. Maybe their moms and dads were opposed to their relationship. I only know they placed themselves just below a rise in the road, beyond my field of visibility. I came over that rise, and they saw me when I saw them. Have you ever watched doves take off? It’s not exactly speedy. I caught them both in my front grill. It was gruesome. I laid them off the road and went on my way to my appointment thinking I’d never be caught. Luck was not with me. When I pulled up in front of my client’s business, he was standing outside. I got out of the car, and he said, “So how many birds did you slaughter this morning?” The evidentiary feathers were still stuck in my grill.
I was playing golf once on a beautiful summer day, when one of my golf partners hit a lovely arcing second shot on a par five. She brought down a robin, about fifteen feet off the ground, in mid flight…a fairway fatality. Coincidence? Hmmmm.
Squirrels are the worst at getting in your way, but I contend they are just stupid and believe they simply like to play chicken with cars. The other flat little squirrel bodies regularly scattered about don’t seem to deter them from their games. Ergo, my conclusion of stupid. I think they’d need a bigger brain to have feelings of low self-esteem and depression so I don’t believe squirrels are suicidal. As to everything else, I’m open to the possibility.
gettysburggirl 