Dear Little Black Squirrel,
You may think that your small black body goes unnoticed, flattened by a careless car in the dark, your tail still stirring with the wind. But I noticed. I've watched you for weeks now, scurrying back and forth across the road, some woodland treasure in your mouth, hurrying to secret it away before the snow falls. Many times your ramblings have taken you just inches from my tires and more than once my babies' heads have jerked back at the suddenness of my stops. If you had one fault, industrious and zealous as you were, it was your inattentiveness. Two tons of metal hurtling toward you scarcely made you pause. But I paused, today, and remembered you.