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.]