As I’ve mentioned before, I run across (not literally, ’cause I slam on the brakes) a lot of interesting wildlife as I sojourn in to work at Oh-Dark-30. From the raccoons vs. possums gang war at Ye Olde Apartment Complex (and sometimes deer, but those deer are skittish), to the up-in-your-face, you-wanna-fight-about-it deer at the radio station, I ought to be carpooling with Marlin Perkins. Plus, word is some of the rich white people who have moved into the rich white people subdivision they’ve been building near the station (yeah, I don’t get it either, I thought real estate was DOWN?) have seen a BEAR in their yard, and some of the co-workers say there are foxes and at least one bobcat.
Point is, there’s a metric fuckload of critters runnin’ around in what is supposed to be a pretty big damn CITY (at least for Wes’BYGAWD Virginny). So when I saw something running purposefully across the work parking lot this morning, I was less worried than intrigued.
Until I really PROCESSED it. And determined that it could only be either a freakishly large bug or a horrifically small mouse. It was FAST and TEEEEEEENY, but not teeny enough to automatically qualify for bug status. I guess it could have been a very midget-y chipmunk, but I’ve never seen a chipmunk run in a straight line ANYWHERE.
Here’s the thing, though. I am more concerned by a freakishly small mouse than by a larger-than-expected bug. I mean, I’ve been to Florida, I know some bugs are factory-made to be bigger than we would prefer, but even a great BIG bug is somehow better than a somehow mutated tiny mouse. Why IS that?
Either way though, if it gets on me, I’mown drop flat dead. Or do the Zulu War Dance like Dear Sweet Mama when the lizard ran up her shorts in the graveyard.