So you think you should pick up roadkill...

I was driving to school yesterday, when the car in front of me swerved widely to avoid something in the road. I swerved too, seeing the cat lying in the road as I drove past. A sadness washed over me, as it does when I accidently open the sports section too far toward the back and see the columns of obituaries. But this sadness didn’t go away. A mile later, the feeling that something was wrong intensified. What if there was a chance? What if it was still alive? I turned my car around. I was going to go pick up roadkill.

There are several things to think about when putting an animal carcass into your backseat.
Are you able to drive past the death, out of sight and out of mind? I realized that I was going to obsess and feel badly all day. I had the power to give that cat the respect in death that it deserved.

This cat-versus-car encounter occurred at about the same time that kids were starting to trickle from their houses to wait for the school bus. The time of day mattered in my decision, as I couldn’t live with myself if little Joey came out of his house and saw Fluffy was now a fluffy pancake. If the cat had died in the middle of the night, it likely would not have been so recognizable as Fluffy come morning. Most important, if I was an idiot that allowed my cat outdoors to play in the street, I would want someone to show my cat compassion.

I pulled my car to the side of the road and clicked on my flashers. I walked into traffic, bundling the cat in the old towels I make my leaky grandmother sit on whenever she rides in my car. I crossed the street, and set the cat in the backseat. I got into the front seat, closed the door, and had what is known as a second thought.

The smell hit my nostrils and reminded me of the people I used to babysit for who threw their childrens’ diapers away in the kitchen trash can. I had to roll down my windows. If you live in a cold climate, this is another factor to consider – will you die of hypothermia before you get the roadkill to its final destination? What if I need to get my car reupholstered? What if the cat was diseased? What if I just gave myself feline leukemia? What if…oh God…I stole a glance into the backseat. What if the roadkill is not quite killed? If the roadkill you put into your car is large, this could quickly become a problem.

I took the cat to the pet emergency clinic several blocks from campus. I walked in the front door, and said to the receptionist, “Where does one take a dead cat?” She looked at me accusingly.
“I didn’t kill it! It was dead when I found it.”

I realized I was starting to sound like Jeffery Dahmer, so I shut my trap.

“You would take it to the humane society.”

Panic flew into my eyes as I was faced with the prospect of a 20-minute ride with Flatty.

They took pity on me, and took the cat off my hands. Even with this final possible wrinkle, would I have still made the same decision? I was going to be intensely bothered that I could have done something, but didn’t. I had the opportunity to show a creature humanity. What would that say about me if I just swerved around it and didn’t make it my responsibility? Even though the cat stank to high heaven, even though I could have given myself some bizarre disease, and even though I might have found myself stuck in traffic with a sick, half-dead cat making mincemeat of my car…my life’s regrets are all about things that I didn’t do. I have yet to regret action, and I do not regret the ten minutes that Flatty was in my life.