Fresh Tail . . .

I'm out for a walk in Whittier, Iowa.  Kinda bored (at the in-laws) needed a break.  I see this perfect, fluffy red squirrel having a great day in the sun.  Here comes a big, white Dodge wood hauler.  This stupid squirrel doesn't get out of the way - and flump, bump, squeek - here he is . . . I thought he was dead - but, then his eyes were lookin' at me.  I got him sorta revived - telling him I was gonna make pinstriping brushes out of his tail if he didn't at least try to live.  I'm walking down the street with this (now bleeding) squirrel (now named Harvey) . . . and now I'm gettin' blood all over my favorite pants and gloves.  He took his last breath - a long sigh - and that was it.  No more Harvey.  I felt kinda bad (didn't cry or anything like that) come on dudes . . . so I buried him in the snow (a thicket of corn stalks) at the in-laws front yard.  So. the rest of the story is . . . I go down to the local tiny little store - and the lady starts asking me why I'm carrying this squirrel around town . . . yada yada yada . . . now, I'm like "That Squirrel Guy" . . . in town.  I heard all the funny stuff from them . .  like "I thought you were making squirrel soup tonite" or "Hey, let's throw him in the smoker" . . .
yada yada yada . . . All I keep thinking is . . . poor, stupid Harvey . . .now will be forever remembered on the world wide web of the internet !