Every single day I see dead animals on the side of the road. I live in rural Arkansas so road kill is not surprising. I don’t pay much attention to dead stuff, though I do swerve so I don’t have to thump and squish over it again. I hate the idea of guts and fur in my tire tread.
When Lexie was a little girl, but old enough to look out the window and pay attention, road kill became a real problem. If she saw a dead creature she fell into a little girl well of despair. She wept and cried for the dead animal’s family, it’s mother and brother and babies. If it was a cute dead animal, a kitten or a raccoon, things were even worse.
So, for several years I looked for roadkill in advance. If I saw a dead dog up ahead I would do anything to distract Lexie. I’d throw gummy worms on the floor board, ask her to find a pen in my purse or I’d say, “close your eyes, I’ve got a surprise”. Then of course I had to make up something. “Look, here’s a dried up green Life Saver left over from Christmas.”
Sandor, on the other hand, is a boy. He loves dead stuff. Ok, dead dogs still upset the kid, but for the most part if something is run over on the edge of the road, he wants me slow down so he can get a really really good look. Then he gleefully says stuff like, “oooohhh, it’s eyes are still open!” and “did you see those guts? I think even the brains were mushed out.” He’s not a bad kid, he’s just a boy and Lexie was a girl.
God made them different and roadkill proves it. Lexie is a lot tougher now and Sandor is really tenderhearted. But their visceral three year old reactions to dead animals on the side of the road proves that God has a plan.
However, it doesn’t explain why armadillos always seem to walk half way across the highway at night, stop, stare directly at me with their beady glowing eyes and wait for me to run over them.