I grew up living the city life. Roadkill was something one would call the city to remove, unless one was brave, and in posession of a shovel, or the animal was a beloved pet.
Our second son came by today to pick up his son from a night over. As I walked him, his wife, and their son out to their car, he noticed that one of our cats had been hit by a car across the street. Damn! Second one this week! I said I’d get my pitchfork since I knew it was close, and my twelve year old daughter said she would go check which cat it was. I got the fork, turned around, and saw a look of absolute horror on our son’s face.
My twelve year old daughter prodded the cat with her hand, then picked it up and casually took it to the garbage bin and tossed it in. Son’s wife says, “She is badass.”
Yes. Yes she is.