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We get a fair amount of road-kill here at Camp Roberts. For the longest time, I thought it was just creatures making wrong choices... until recently.
I was driving to lunch last week when I came upon a ground squirrel - an older one at that - standing in the MIDDLE of the LANE -- not the street -- my lane. Looking the other way. As I rolled-up behind him, his companions on the side of the road -- including one to the front of him and clearly in his field of vision -- all ran for their holes, as they usually do (the usual reason a fatality happens is because the hole is on the other side of the road and they unwisely choose to try and outrun your car).
THIS one just stood there in the middle of the lane, looking the other way. If I was into squirrel stew, this guy would have been dinner.
But I'm not, so I slowed, eventually even coming to a stop behind him. And sat there for a couple of moments (fortunately, there was no traffic behind me). FINALLY he turned around -- I don't know why (if he was worried for his life, he should have thought to look around much sooner) -- and looked very surprised to see me sitting there.
The windows were rolled-down, so I was able to make the universally-understood (among humans, anyway) arm motion that said "Okay, NOW what are you going to do, Bright-Eyes?" (or motions having the same effect and meaning) and shouted "WELLLLLLLL?"
He decided to scamper to the side of the road.
While I felt better about not having killed something unnecessarily -- I am still quite traumatized from hitting that rabbit two weeks ago over at Lost Hills on the way here a couple of weeks ago -- I got to thinking that maybe I should have hit him and spared future generations of squirrels the pain and agony of becoming road-kill because they inherited the "stupid squirrel gene" from this idiot.
I didn't need to worry -- the very NEXT day in the very SAME spot, two turkey vultures and a raven were having a fight over a squirrel body of about the same size as the one I had almost hit the day before in the middle of the LANE. Not the street - the LANE. Now they all look alike, really, and none of them wear nametags (now you know why the Army uniform has nametapes and we carry dog-tags), but it could NOT have been anyone else.
And Darwin's theory prevails.
Sorta.
The NEXT day, while pulling up to my office, there was a squirrel standing in the gravel parking area that I park in across from the office. Now this isn't unusual as there are easily 100 squirrels in the field across from the office (and another 50 in the field that surrounds the office) (if they were five pounds heavier, they might BE worth the trouble of trying to catch and stew) (I've noticed the three things we have plenty of -- rabbits, squirrels, and sheep -- are never on the menu here... and while I'm okay with rabbits and squirrels not being on the menu, you would think we'd have mutton every now-and-then, at least) -- but as I am rumbling across the gravel, it sudden occurs to me this one ISN'T moving. And is looking the OTHER way -- and not getting a clue from all his other buddies in front of him scurrying for cover.
I was going slow enough, so I slammed on the brakes, showering this clown with gravel and just barely missing bashing him in the back of the skull with the front license plate on my car.
Yeah -- I know -- Darwin would have been PO'd at me. And I really should have hit him... and spared all those future generations the "stupid squirrel gene." But judging by the numbers I barely missed and these two I had to STOP to miss, I'd say I'm not the ONLY one around here helping something other than the strongest and fittest survive here…
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As to the oft-asked question as to how I can find time to write stories like this when I am supposed to be working, I actually write these things during my "off" hours (I am being treated humanely here on The Rock and have most evenings to myself). I usually do laundry once a week and bring the laptop computer with me for tunes and to write stuff like this.
And no, I don't type 150 words a minute -- the dryers in the Camp Roberts Laundromat are electric... and as anyone who has had to work with an electric dryer will tell you, electricity sucks. Which is why they make better vacuums than dryers.
And why I have a LOT of time to write one night a week.
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