In the 26 years I have been posting Friday thoughts in one form or another, I am pretty sure this is the first time I have written about a roadkill. For everything there is a season…
I noticed the carcass at the side of the county road as I was making my way from our house into town. But it wasn’t the usual racoon or opossum. Its black fur with a white stripe gave it away immediately. “Poor Pepé Le Pew,” I thought as I drove by, and for a few seconds did not think much more about it.
Then it hit. 50 yards or so from the scene of the crime, that unmistakable aroma hit my nostrils, even though the car windows were up. In another 100 yards the stench receded. The roadkill’s olfactory assault had been far worse than its visual assault. Continue reading






