Female Rat Terrier mix, 9-12 weeks old, adopted from humane society. Smart as all get-out and even smells better than me. My new BFF. Will have a blast training her. Thinking of the name "Pepper", but will likely end up something bizarre like Pipsy or Pipette.

Yeah. On my way home last night around 10:45 pm I came upon a squirrel or small rabbit lying on the white line, twitching and partially crushed yet still alive, having just been hit. I was past it before I could jerk the wheel and finish what the driver in front of me had started. I felt sick for the rest of the night and hoped that somebody behind me had the decency and self respect to do what I didn't.

Another reason why I should carry a gun in my car. You never know when you'll come upon a deer or a dog or a cat and have to ease their pain.

This time it's a baby bird. I found it lying in the curb (actually, my dog found it). I turned around because I'd walked right past it, and then I nearly ended up dragging Heidi (aforementioned dog) right out of her collar. I didn't know what the hell it was at first (you know how freaky baby birds look) but then I walked closer and leaned down and that thing opened its mouth and stretched its neck up and I was like "AAAAUUGHH!" Then I realized it was a bird and I was good.

I don't know how long it was out there baking in the sun, but I got a small cardboard box and constructed a rudimentary nest. Couldn't find any worms in the ground so I fed it some dogfood. I don't think anything's broken and it seems to be doing fine. Then again, the odds of baby birds surviving without their parents is pretty slim. I'll do my best. I don't know if it's a blue jay or a mockingbird. Maybe neither. It's too early to tell.

The steam was rolling off the road from yet another hard rain shower as I was making my way home this afternoon. The sun was baking the blacktop, the humidity thick enough to slice. I have no love for this kind of jungle weather. I turned into my neighborhood with disdainful thoughts when I spied a thick black coil in the center of the road. It's a snake was my first thought. Holy shit, he's going to get killed was my second.

I turned my wheel to avoid hitting the snake and pulled into the nearest driveway. The visibility on this part of the road was poor, and the neighbors have a piquant for ignoring the speed limit signs. I couldn't just drive on and hope for the best; I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I saw the snake's carcass in the road the next day.

I got out of my car. It was still sprinkling, hot and muggy with the sun shining through the steam. The snake was lying still, but I could see it was alive and uninjured-looking. It was perhaps 36 inches in length, two inches in girth at the thickest part. I hesitated a second, not so excited about the possibility of handling a venomous animal. I stepped into the road and saw that it was a black snake, or rat snake I think it's called. Non-venomous. I knew I had to act quickly if I wanted to save it--perched on a dangerous hill with SUVs that like going 45 mph is not where I want to be.

I reached down and grasped it gently behind its head, then used my left hand to grip its midsection (I'd seen it done in person often enough and knew enough about snake anatomy to avoid hurting it). It writhed, a good sign, and as I carried it to a small patch of woods on the side of the road, I felt its muscles moving and its bone structure intact. It was a huge snake, though I only remember it upon reflection. If I had spread my arms as far apart as they could go I think I still could have had a hold on it.

I laid it on a bed of wet, warm leaves and stood up. It was then that I noticed the blood on my right hand, the one that had been grasping behind the head. I think the snake might have gotten clipped by a car, though there were no obvious signs of injury, no crushed head or anything. I washed the blood off my hands in the gutter and returned to my car, shaking from the adrenaline.

I've never been forced to rescue a wild animal from the road, certainly not a snake. My brother is the snake handler in the family, not me. I felt like a hero for my good deed, but I worried, thinking about the blood. Where had it come from? I started my car and returned home. Righteous indignation took hold of me. How could anyone be so careless as to destroy a creature like that? I could have cried, but I got a hold of myself after a minute or two.

I later returned twice to see if the snake had moved; it had, and the third time I checked, it was gone. I hope it's okay. My heart doesn't bleed for many things, but animals in the road is one of them.

It was nice and rainy and shitty this evening. I was walking my dog, trying to find this dead turtle I'd heard about, and after scouring the whole neighborhood I was nothing but clammy and broken hearted.

But then there was the pasture. With cows in it. I live out in the boonies sort of, and there's this small farm across the road from my neighborhood. Just for the hell of it I mooed a couple times to this baby black cow.

Which stared at me for a minute and then mooed back. In its high little sing-song moo-voice.

There is no love like my love for Baby Black Cow.