Road Kill...Spring is in the Air

Road Kill: Really?

I was walking along Wellington St this morning when I saw the desiccated remains of a gray squirrel in the middle of the road.  I looked away from the squashed and splattered body of what was once a proud and stately forest animal.  “Road kill.”  I sadly muttered to the universe, to the fates and to the asshole who killed one of God’s little creatures.  I’m not a sentimental man, but I have no place in my heart for needless death and destruction.

As I walked on a random thought struck me. What if this wasn’t a simple case of collateral damage due to driver neglect.  What if it wasn’t murder at all?  What if this sad case of road kill was in fact road suicide?

I don’t know about you but if I miss sleep, don’t eat regularly and get stressed out about this and that I can get pretty cranky and down on myself and the world.  I’m sure its no different for squirrels.  If you prick them do they not bleed?

This winter has not exactly been an exemplar for ideal hibernation conditions.  There has been little snow and alarmingly warm temperatures.  I have seen squirrels in my yard and neighbourhood in mid-February.  Think about it.  For a squirrel that’s the middle of the night.  How do you feel when you are awake for some reason in the middle of the night?  I’m miserable and mean spirited, especially if I can’t easily get back to sleep.  Do you think for one minute squirrels are any different? 

Sometimes when I’m up at unreasonable times I can only get back to sleep if I eat something.  I can’t sleep if I’m hungry.  I go to the fridge.  Its easy to find, that big white box in the kitchen.  Do you think hungry wakeful squirrels have it easy.  Its dark, its February. They are groggy. They can’t remember where the hell they buried that chestnut from last September; so with no other recourse they go to their nests at the top of some wind tossed Maple tree and toss and turn till March.

Come Spring its mating season.  They haven’t eaten.  They didn’t sleep and now they have to find a mate. That’s a lot of pressure and stress. If I had to do that every March I just couldn’t face it.

So is it any wonder that come Spring you see dead squirrels littering our suburban streets with their sorry little stiff corpses.  They had enough.  Their tentative run into the street is not myopia, it is a cry for help.   

Now when I see a dead squirrel, and I know I will see more in my life time this is not over, I pause and reflect ....what a sad little life. As I walk on I see two gray  squirrels  running a brisk spiral down a tree trunk immersed in the spring mating ritual. They look tired. 

The circle of life. 

Marty

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