Post
by windwalkingwolf » Tue May 08, 2018 3:34 pm
So, I'm driving home from work last night, around 3 a.m. In my peripheral vision, I see a good-sized, light coloured thing flying out of the trees at the ditch on my left, to cross the road. With my limited view of it, I judged it to be about 7 feet off the ground, and figured it would easily clear my car, and why not? Why would a night-flying bird want to stay close to the ground? I was wrong, and it smashed into the top of my quarter panel with a huge bang. So loud I that after I stopped, I checked for damage, and bits of exploded bird. There was nothing, not even a feather caught in my roof racks, or a greasy spot on the paint. I turned around to make sure it wasn't lying suffering in a ditch. In the middle of the road, I see a large flat squirrel lying in a puddle of fluid, and figured I must have hit an owl carrying dinner, and went looking for signs--blood spatters, feathers, something; but whatever it was was nowhere to be found and left no trace behind. Somewhat relieved I hadn't killed an owl, I returned my attention to the road. In the road is the cutest thing I have ever seen: soft, thick, beautiful tawny fur, enormous expressive eyes that took in the light of my flashlight in such a way that made me think it had been dead awhile already. I had a fleeting thought that I had killed a chinchilla! Then I realize it's moving, following me with its' head. As I approach, it gets up and tries to run, but only succeeds at scampering in circles. The puddle it left behind is urine, and there is no blood or obvious injuries, not even a limp...it just cannot walk a straight line. I caught it, which was harder than it sounds, tucked it in a toolbox and brought it home. I didn't want to leave it, having survived such a collision only to be run over or snatched up by a hungry coyote. Left the toolbox on the kitchen table with a DO NOT OPEN note. No matter how cute, I didn't want the strange creature loose in my house. I figured he'd recover, or die, but I didn't want to be responsible for allowing some mangy coyote to live another day.
Took him outside a little while ago. He looked at me for a minute out of one big beautiful eye (the other was swelled almost shut) and then jumped out and dashed (in a straight line)for the nearest tree, faster than a thought.
It was a flying squirrel. It had tried to land on top of my car! I didn't even know we HAD flying squirrels in our neck of the woods.
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