April
1 (2007) I am considering writing a book entitled What You Have Run Over in Texas. Texas has so much roadkill that removal is financially not feasible; everything just lies there, first getting bigger and bigger and then slowly deflating. I'm sure they pick the dead animals up in the big cities--I think they even pick them up within the city limits of the little town I live next to--but they sure don't bother on the county roads. A deer hit my car during my second or third trip to Texas. I was driving near Marfa and a big mule deer bounded out of the brush on the side of the road and attempted to leap over my station wagon. He fell a little short and I saw him through my rearview mirror doing somersaults as I pulled off the pavement. I didn't know what I was going to do with a wounded fully-antlered and armed mule deer, but I was going to try to do something. Luckily, the next thing I knew he was back on his feet and running fast as ever out of sight. Whew.
Onward to April 2
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