I was all full of myself this morning, getting ready to blog about the amazing week I had. I was off to Long Island for numerous activities, culminating in a two performances at the Colony Theater in Breezy Point, New York. It was a week of good times, singing, dancing, old friends, new friends, bicycle riding,visiting and much, much time on the Belt Parkway. I have become a real New York Driver, going back and forth from Port Washington to Breezy, sometimes twice a day. None of that driving experience saved me from this morning's tragedy, which was taking out a chipmunk as he was crossing the road. All my blog material went out of my head and now I am simply reliving the moment over and over. I have put in over 700 miles in the past week, and 1/2 mile from my house on North Bush Road I take out an innocent chipmunk. I'm devastated. Which brings to mind the question, what is the right thing to do when you hit an animal with your car? Now of course I realize that if I was to have hit a dog or cat (someone's pet) not only would I be inconsolable, but there is clear behavior code which demands that you find the owner at all cost and expense of time. There is no other option. Thank God that was not the case this morning. I hit a chipmunk, which I can only assume had no owner but was a creature of nature. And I didn't actually "hit" him. I "overed" him. I ran him over completely. He never saw me coming, and I feel terrible. I actually cringed and closed my eyes because he darted out so quickly and I was moving along at a nice clip. I had just dropped off Allison for her Spanish final and was heading home for that second cup of coffee. Out he darted and over I went. It was that fast. With my eyes closed, I didn't exactly see the impact, but the direction of Chip and the velocity of my car, it was an inevitable meeting in the middle of the road. Having hit animals before (racoons, two in one week, a long story for another time) I am familiar with the "blump" feel of the car when you run something over. It changes in relation to the size of the animal, but you do feel it. I felt it. I knew. A backwards look in my rear view mirror confirmed my fear. Flattened. Ouch. So, today I will mourn, tomorrow I will blog about my week. I need 24 hours to get myself together. Drive carefully. They're out there.