Squirrels minus one

The patriarch of the resident squirrels was in the street when we came home. Unmarked. But definitely dead, we found, upon checking. The lure of the better pecan tree across the street had been too much to resist. Heedless and intent upon his business, he must have failed to look in both directions. Passing vehicles on the other side of the street would create a breeze that would lift the hair on his long and handsome tail. That would have the effect of catching drivers’ attention on the dead-squirrel side, causing them to slow down to avoid the squish effect.

The kitchen faces the street, so we see what goes on there. First a car stopped and a woman got out and checked the squirrel. Seeing that he was indeed dead and not suffering, she left him there. Not long after that, another woman-driven sedan stopped; this time, the driver moved the squirrel to the curb, employing the ever-handy plastic tube in which newspapers are delivered and then used by conscientious dog-owners for excrement disposal.

The person who came along on foot accompanied by his dog moved the squirrel from the curb to the walkway leading to our front door, for unfathomable reasons. Another walker moved the squirrel to our trashcan. Thanks ever so much, people!

Apart from leaving our bushy buddy out there as a traffic-calming device, why did we not move him? Because he was where he would have caught the attention of the turkey vultures the very next day. They never overlook a fine bit of carrion. Road-kill is their business. When they’re done with a squirrel, there may be a bit of skull left and perhaps a bit of hair, or there may be nothing at all. Now, that’s recycling!

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