Henry Ford is a murderer

Ever notice how one thing can throw off your whole day? (Note: this will NOT turn into ranting session.)

On my way home from dropping my brother off at work, I was driving down a back road when all of a sudden there was a flash of brown and a KATHUD. I looked in my rear view mirror to see a quivering blob of fur on the side of the road.

I still don't know what I hit. I just kept driving. I was in shock.

The whole ride home, and the rest of the day, I prayed and prayed that I didn't hit somebody's pet. At least when you hit a squirrel or a frog or a turtle, it is highly unlikely that it belongs to a family. The worst that could happen in that scenario is that the animal was a parent whose babies were depending on it for food. But if you hit a pet, it's just like you murdered some couple's adopted baby or some kids' hairy younger sibling.

My reasoning tells me that the animal was too small to be a dog and too round to be a cat. I think it may have been a groundhog or something of the sort.

Whatever it was, I'm sure I killed it. Even though it wasn't there later when I drove on that same road, the "kathud" was far too pronounced to have been anything other than a fatal hit.

I wasn't horribly depressed the rest of the day, but everything did seem a little more glum. It's hard for me to digest the fact that I couldn't have done anything to prevent the death of that animal.