When I see roadkill I feel sad. I imagine that the lifeless form was a sterling pillar of their fluffy or feathery society, and that they were cruelly struck down in their prime by some abominable moving machine. The emotions of sympathy and loss are strong but for how long? Whenever I see roadkill on my cycle rides I play a sort of game with myself. The game I play is to see how quickly I forget. Its really torturous to go past a squashed Mr or Mrs hedgehog who I saw yesterday but somehow forgot in the interrim. Then comes the guilt. So was that sadness even real? How can you be sad one moment then forget it the next? It took me a whole week before I actually anticipated the carcass of spikey splodge. Today it was a mouse, a white one too, sprawled across the path, victim to some cruel feline amusements no doubt, but I’d forgotten all about it until I came back past it again. I’ll remember that little mouse tomorrow because I’ve made a point of writing about him. Poor young Cecil, snapped into the jaws of a moggie while he was out finding food for his wife esmerelda. Esme will try to move on in time, of course, but I wonder if she’s still.waiting. For him to come home?