So I hit a beaver on my way in to work. Yeh. I’m gonna let that sink in for a minute. I’m sure there is some kind of joke…but I feel so damn bad I can’t think of one.
Although as I sit here and think about the events leading up to me hitting him…I’m starting to think he was a kamikaze suicidal beaver. I’m serious. He saw me coming.
I was taking the back way to work like I normally do…and if any of you have been on my page since the beginning you know I have a torrid past with animals…especially animals I hit with a vehicle. Remember the Kevorkian Mobile? Let’s see there has been a deer…a baby opossum…oh and I didn’t hit the llama with my car but I wanted to after it spit a loogy in my hair…and I drove home looking like “There’s Something About Mary”.
Anyways…driving along and I come to a straightaway that always floods because the river is right by the road…and sure enough it had flooded and now there was ice on that straightaway. I see this lump of something kinda standing up. I admit my eye sight isn’t the best anymore…I had glasses but I left them on the roof of a car and ran them over (that’s a whole ‘nother story) so that “lump” could have been a toddler for all I could see at that point. So I slow down and as I get closer I realize it is an animal…a pretty good size animal…and that animal is standing on its back legs, staring at me…like into my soul.
Holy sh*t it’s a beaver. Awwwww cute little beaver standing on his big boy legs. (this running monologue is going through my head…ok I admit it…I was saying it out loud )
I am now kinda getting concerned about the fact that Mr Beaver is not moving and my truck is starting to slide a little. “Ohhhh Mr Beaver you need to scamper home. Seriously Beaver. You need to get out of the way! BEAVER move your beaver ass!!!”….and that damn thing still isn’t moving. So I think maybe he is trying to be initiated into a beaver gang and this is part of it….we got ourselves a Badass Billy Beaver up in here. I could almost see him saying “Come at me bro”…Now I’m a little annoyed.
Finally the last few moments are there…his little beaver life is flashing before his eyes…I’m honking the horn like a lunatic…yelling out my window “Come on Billy Beaver! You have a full life ahead of you! Knees to chest you friggin suicidal beaver!!!!”…..I try to swerve…on ice…and damn near go over a ravine…I felt the BUMP BUMP of beaver butt getting ran over. I come to a stop and look in the rearview mirror and the beaver is lying flat on his back. He’s dead.
Now….as my long time readers know…I kinda have this morbid curiosity to walk up to animals I have hit and just make sure he’s really dead…once again I have no friggi’n clue what I am going to do- I mean I’m not Dr Doolittle….I don’t have healing hands for shits sake. BUT this time I didn’t! I fought the urge to get out of the truck and check on him.
So I sat staring in my rear view mirror…waiting…no movement at all…poor little beaver…he will never get to use those cute little bucky beaver teeth again….hmmmm I wonder what their tail looks like up close? NO! DAMNIT! Snap out of it! Stay in the truck! Focus ya weirdo! I start to hum a little song about brave beavers…maybe I will call it the Ballad Of Badass Billy Beaver…
Meanwhile the beaver has now sat up…I’m assuming dusted himself off, made sure he didn’t crap his little beaver furry pants…and TURNS AROUND AND MEAN MUGS ME THROUGH THE REAR VIEW MIRROR—like I did something offensive!!!
I got the hell out of there…stupid mothertruckin beaver. Moral of this story? Beavers…they can take a pounding.
*ok. yeh. there it is. there’s that joke.*
This blog was written by the fabulously funny Charisma of Former Welfare Mom’s Guide to Worldliness, known ’round the world for The Sexy Bathtub Fail to End ALL Fails. Go like her Facebook page! You know you want to!
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