Like a wounded soldier...

On my way to work this morning, about a block from the office, the car in front of me hit a squirrel that was scrambling to get out of the way. The as the car passed over the poor thing was flopping around until it came to rest in the middle of the street, still alive but unable to move. The driver that hit it stopped briefly looking back in her mirror, but left without doing anything.

I stopped my car, stunned, not sure what I could do, but wanting to make sure another car didn't run the poor thing over again. Then, like a wounded soldier on a battlefield, it began pulling itself out of the street with only its front paws, dragging its useless hind legs and tail behind it. It was heartbreaking!

After the squirrel pulled itself out of the street and into the weeds, I drove the last block to the office and got an empty box from the storage room and walked back to find the squirrel. I figured there was probably nothing that could be done, but at least a vet could end his suffering quickly and painlessly instead of letting him lay on the side of the road.

I found him laying in the weeds near the street, breathing, but clearly in distress. He tried to pull itself away from me, but I managed to position the box so that he dragged himself in.

I drove to a vet a few blocks from the office. The receptionist was very nice, and obviously concerned. I said that I thought it might be too late. We opened the box, but he was already dead.

The receptionist thanked me and said that she'd take care of his body.

I haven't been able to focus today. The image of the poor little guy pulling himself out of the street with his limp legs dragging behind is stuck in my mind... How could that person have not even stopped??? It seems so heartless.

It reminded me of a time when I was about 8 or 9 when were driving home from dinner and mom saw a cat get hit in front of us. I didn't see the impact, but I vividly remember seeing the silhouette of the cat flopping dramatically in the glow of oncoming headlights. Nobody else stopped, but Mom ran into the busy street and scooped up the cat and wrapped it in her coat. It died in her arms. Crying, she left it on the grass next to the road, hoping that its owner would find it and not wonder where it had disappeared to.

It was a horrible, horrible experience, but I remember loving Mom so much in that moment. She had a true gift for connecting to animals.