Suicide Squirrel Seeks Solace in Spokes. Fails.

You know those demented squirrels who wait a moment before a vehicle comes along a street to dash in front of the wheels? One of these leaped out as I was biking past the other day.

“Hey!” I shouted, to scare him away, but by that time he had already bounced off the spokes of my front wheel. As I glanced over my shoulder he was dashing madly back whence he’d come.

I sort of felt like I’d failed to do my duty by Darwin and future generations of squirrelkind by not breaking his stupid neck. On the other hand, my bike still has clean hands, so to speak: let the local squirrels seek more willing filters for their gene pool, say I.

[I don’t know why I say “he.” I guess these guys always remind me of the dopey thrillseekers from old Mountain Dew commercials.]

About JE

James Enge is the author of the World-Fantasy-Award-nominated novel Blood of Ambrose (Pyr, April 2009). His latest book is The Wide World's End. His short fiction has appeared in Swords and Dark Magic (Harper Collins, 2010), Black Gate, the Stabby-Award-winning anthology Blackguards and elsewhere.
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4 Responses to Suicide Squirrel Seeks Solace in Spokes. Fails.

  1. onyxhawke says:

    You’re supposed to be writing 24/7, not out endangering the lives of innocent wildlife!

    • JE says:

      I strongly suspect it was guilt that threw him toward the path of my bike, so can’t have been that innocent. But if more writing will save squirrelly lives, they can count on me. (I actually did get some done over the weekend.)

  2. davidcapeguy says:

    I think you’ve got the makings of a “Mythbusters” episode here. They tried stopping a motorcycle with flagpoles and steel rods, but neglected to try the critical squirrel + bicycle test. They’d probably pack the squirrel with 800 grams of fulminate of mercury and shoot it out of their chicken gun.

    • JE says:

      I just ride a cheapo Roadmaster bike, but I’m pretty sure it would routinely win in a facedown against an ordinary squirrel, or even the walnut-bloated behemoths we have locally. If they go for a big pyrotechnic finish, though, I want Buster to stand in as cyclist for the occasion. (I have run over squirrels, or some kind of critter, while biking after dark around here, but I’m pretty sure they had already met their maker. It’s a pretty horrible sensation, though; hopefully the Mythbusters would use some sort of ballistic gel-squirrel.)

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