Ordeals*

The past few days have provided some animal-based torment while driving the Padmobile. I've had two separate ordeals of distress whereby everyday creatures have thrown themselves before my bonnet in apparent suicide bids. Yesterday morning I was driving down the A19 when, out of the corner of my left eye, I saw a pigeon flying up from the side of the road. That happens all the time with birds, and usually they're perceptive enough to fly high enough and avoid a collision. This slightly portly pigeon didn't manage it though. I tensed my shoulders and squinted as it went straight into the front of the bonnet with a horrific clunk. I glanced out my rear-view mirror to see the car behind being showered in more feathers than you can imagine. It was like the Padmobile had carried out some magical act upon the piegon's person, dispelling it in a puff of feathers. In fact, that's exactly what had happened.

Nobody cares much for pigeons (and Patrick Suskind's excellent novel, 'The Pigeon', documents why expertly). But this next story is bound to get the tears flowing. On Wednesday I was driving along a country road, music on loud, the wind in my hair, drumming the circumference of the steering wheel. A picture of urban cool. Then I spotted the little rabbit (everybody likes rabbits) about twenty yards ahead, toing and froing in the middle of my lane. I applied the brakes in an urgent yet safe manner, but it was too late for me to do anything - it was all up to the rabbit now. It hopped a couple of steps towards the middle of the road (good idea), but then stupidly turned back (bad idea). I looked up to the sky and waited for the inevitable thud of its head being separated from its neck by the underside of my engine. I'll admit, at this point my eyes had slightly moistened. Time was moving in double slow motion. An orchestra piped up in my left ear with strings at a fearsome pitch, just waiting to break down to a mournful diminuendo when the carnage materialised. The rabbit disappeared from view beneath the car. Now was the time - I tried not to listen.

But nothing. A startle only as I woke from my momentary slumber at the wheel and looked behind through the mirror. There it was. Alive, hopping to the safety of the grass verge, flicking a 'V' at me. It was like a scene from a film, or an episode of the Animals Of Farthing Wood. I cried all the way home.

*based on true stories.