Mercy Rule

A squirrel got ran over by a car in front of me today. Not killed though, just maimed and hopping for the curb in a “jesus christ I just got run over by a car and all sorts of shit is broken” sort of way.

I have a history of mercy killings, which include the following:

• bludgeoning a squirrel with a log after running over it on a bike and breaking its back, in a state park, in front of a family at a picnic, you have to believe me when I say it was the right thing to do
• Running over a turtle that had been hit my a lawnmower blade
• Crushing a car-struck bird flopping on the road shoulder with a mountaineering boot

Obviously I should have been a hospice nurse, at least if one believes in universal signs. Every one of these was the right thing to do, but far from easy, so you can imagine my trepidation as I drove around the block thinking about what was in the car with which to deal a death blow. The best I could come up with was a tire iron, which would surely result in a call to the police. Fortunately for me, when I came back around the squirrel was nowhere to be seen.

Not the squirrel in question