Ode to a Rodent

Almost every day of the year you can find one splattered on the side of the road, a mess of fur and flesh near the center line that you've narrowly avoided once again. He is not the kind of creature you look upon with awe and wonder. Can you believe I saw one?

Rather we pass by him casually as he stands at attention for a moment, his tiny head and twitching nose popping out just above the tall grass, before he turns and lumbers away, his furry backside bouncing with each step. We don't even notice his salute.

Some of us have even hunted his cousins. In fact I've heard stories of his kin killed with everything from shovels to shotguns. All this done in the name of population control or property protection.

I've never shed a tear over his blood shed in the street. I've never stopped to wonder at his majestic walk.

Yet one day a year, this dear rodent takes center stage. The weight of this year's weather resting on his tiny brown shoulders, he gives a glance that determines our destiny. Today, dear Phil, is your day of dignity.