Yesterday, I hit a squirrel with my car. I didn't mean to. The poor stupid thing just ran out in front of me as if suicidal. I heard a small thud, but when I looked in my rearview mirror, I didn't see anything. Pehaps I just grazed him and he'll be OK.
This is the second time I've hit a squirrel. The first time, I cried and cried, and it took me about a week to get over it. This time, I was sad, but there were no tears, and I think I can get through today without giving it too much thought. I hope I am not becoming desensitized. I think I feel worse about not feeling worse than I do about hitting the squirrell.
I sentence myself to going outside right now to fill up my bird feeders and throw some nuts around on the ground.
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I hit one last Saturday. After years of avoiding them I started feeling like I could always dodge them. I felt bad, but there was nothing that could be done.
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