Guts

I don’t know what kind of scale you’re using, but in my world a raccoon isn’t a “very large” animal, especially after it’s flatter than it was ten minutes ago. Even if it’s living in your attic, a raccoon is still just a “pretty big” animal. I expected to find a goat, or a cow in the middle of the road, not an oversized cat missing five feet of entrails.

The raccoon isn’t a hazard, it’s in the middle of the lane. It couldn’t have chosen a better place to get squashed if it wanted to. Unless you’re driving on the center line for some ridiculous reason, which I’m not going to put past you, there’s no way you’re going to hit the very recently demised nocturnal menace.

I’ll go ahead and move it out of the road since I drove all the way out here. I don’t remember “Roadkill Remover” as part of my job description, but I’m pretty sure “Substitute Parent” wasn’t on there either and that doesn’t stop anyone from asking me to raise their kids for them.

Oh, and by the way, it wasn’t exactly missing it’s guts. They were still attached, and they was a lot more elasticity involved than I was expecting. I’m sure I’ll be able to get that off my boots when my shift is over.

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