On my Mind: Stuffed Animals in the Road

Fair warning: this post may be a little dark.

You see, I have this terrible habit whenever I drive. It is very odd, a little perverse and never fails to make me extremely sad....and yet I cannot stop. I am always scanning across the lanes and sides of the roads for roadkill. I'm so embarrassed to admit that but it is a real problem. It seems as though the amount of stray dogs and cats has increased tenfold in light of our economic troubles and it never fails that I see something everyday while driving. There was a loose dog near our neighborhood that I tried for weeks to catch. A cute little black and white pug looking thing who was terribly skittish and managed to evade me every time. And others too. I would often see cars pulled over on the side of the road trying to get him but he always made a mad dash under a chain link fence and that was that. I was driving to work one morning and from a mile away, I could see and I knew. I knew that this sweet little dog had met his unfortunate end. I called Dave immediately crying hysterically. I should have saved this dog. It was my fault. I could have been the one to save his life. This is how I feel everytime. I have this irrational belief that I could have somehow prevented these tragic events and it causes me great distress that sticks with me longer than it really should.

I was driving downtown one morning and I spotted it quickly. In the middle of the road, tan and little. As traffic caused me to slow I could make out the object more accurately and I realized it was a stuffed toy dog. I was surprised that I didn't feel relief but the same recurrent sadness I feel everytime.

I have too long personified stuffed animals. When I was 9, it took me 45 minutes to pick out which Winnie the Pooh on the shelf I was walking home with because I didn't want to hurt the others' feelings. I ultimately chose the one with the wonky eye because I figured he would be the first to get discarded by others. To this day when I visit my mother's house I have to walk in to the guest bedroom and give a hello kiss and a paw rub to my childhood teddy bear Gummie. Every time. And I can't stop myself from cringing when Rivers carelessly throws her stuffed animals on the floor face down. I always walk right over, give them a pat and sit them up properly.

So when I saw this little stuffed dog dirty, matted and laying so alone in the middle of the road I felt my heart sink. I imagined some little boy holding Whiskers (look I'm naming him - this is a seriously problem people!) out the window letting him feel the wind in his fur. Although Whiskers remained stoic and managed to keep his tongue from flying out to taste the fresh air, I could almost hear his thoughts at what a great time this was and then whooooosh. Out the window he goes. Tommy (oh brother) cried for little Whiskers but mom was in too big of a hurry to flip her Yukon around and there really wasn't even a light for half a mile where you could make a u-turn. I wonder if Tommy sees Whiskers every morning when he drives past. He can't, right? Tommy would surely demand that mom pull the car over and let him run to rescue Whiskers from the dirty asphalt. I'm about crazy enough to do it myself. Poor little Whiskers. How long will he have to lie so alone? I can't take much more. It's making me too sad.