Don't you hate it when you're driving along and see the body of a dead animal on the road in front of you? For many of us there's some kind of voyeuristic part of us that can't help but look to see what it is.
I have this war going on inside my brain that says, "Don't look! You know you'll regret it and then you'll feel sad for the pet's owner." But then there's another part of my mind that says "What if it's your own pet? You've got to look, just to be sure!" even when you're twenty kilometres from home. While again, there's another part of my brain that simply says, "Look! Go on! Look!"
This happened the other day as we were driving along, and I was wrestling within my mind, willing myself not to look when JD called out, "Ooh look! It's a dead animal!"
"Fine," I thought to myself, "I don't need to look because JD is looking."
"Aw! It's only a rolled up mat," he said, and I found myself glancing towards the item on the road.
I felt such a sense of relief when I saw it was indeed a mat, and I can't understand why there's a part of myself that simply feels that it HAS to look at things like dead animals on the road.
Where I sit to write on the computer, my two dogs have a small mat on the floor to the left of my feet on which they lie and sleep. Recently I looked down and almost laughed out loud at Rachel, who looked like she'd simply rolled over and died (see below). She was sound asleep!