Hello Squirrels! About ten years ago I was driving home from work to spend another joyless evening of tension and torpor with my darling ex-Mrs Snooty, when from out of the verge sprang a pheasant. The unfortunate bird collided with the front end of my Vauxhall Cavalier. I watched in horror as it cartwheeled gyroscopically in a flurry of beak and feather in my off-side wing mirror. A moralist at heart, I performed a flawless emergency stop and rushed back up the lane to inspect the damage. To the bird, you understand.

I was driving just a few miles out of Binbrook, in the Lincolnshire Wolds, through a rich person's country estate. As I reached the bird, I could see it was breathing heavily and extremely bedraggled. A moralist at heart, I decided there and then the kindest thing would be to dispatch the animal as quickly and cleanly as possible. I ran back down the lane, jumped in my car and upon arrival at the pheasant, reversed slowly over it, heaving a sigh of relief as it's suffering ended. I got out to move the body into the verge, only to find it was breathing just as heavily; my attempt at a mercy killing had proved both fruitless and futile (I must stop reading those Jeeves and Wooster novels). I drove over it again a few times, but it was no good...

I was in a bit of a lather by this stage, and began to lose my grip on the situation. A moralist at heart, I cast around for a heavy object with which to bludgeon the creature to death and, to my relief, found half a house brick. I knelt as closely as I could, apologised, took aim and brought the brick down on it's head with what can only be described as 'extreme force'. Sadly, sheer power triumphed over reasonable accuracy, and I succeeded only in clipping off the pheasant's beak (and putting a sizable dent in the road surface). A kind of madness overwhelmed me, and in a desperate frenzy, I rained down blow after blow after blow......until, at last, a voice behind me shouted, 'you evil b*****d!'

A warden of some description had pulled up in a dark green Land Rover and clearly thought I was a persecutor of animals, whereas, of course, I was simply a do-gooder trying to do-good (badly, I admit). After what felt like three days, I had just about managed to convince him I was an altruist, not a sadist, and drove orf. Has anyone else had an even remotely similar experience?

Sorry , Lord Snooty [and Gawd bless you Sir] ....but did you say , "pheasant " or , "peasant "
I would imagine the former , actually , because although you do have a reputation of being mean towards your undergardeners and positively evil towards your serving wenches , I think that even you may draw the line at disposing of a peasant , however smelly or obnoxious , in such a nasty fashion.
However , in the future , if you do happen to run down a peasant , let us know how it all ended : please !

Thats one big fat lie!!

Lord Snooty in a Cavalier!!

Surely a Roller, what what.

The moral of this thread is...hit and run :D

Anyway, I was driving along an A road a few years ago when a bird flew into my car, hitting my driver-side front-window.

I looked in the rear view mirror to see the poor thing somersault a few times and hit the floor. I was in such a state of surprise, I continued driving (your Honour).

If I'd had my window open the time, it would have flown straight into my face :|

The bird is probably still there looking for me :suspect:

Strangely enough, yes, I have had a similar experience.

Going back about ten years I had driven off the main road past our farm and pulled onto the farm track and passed a rabbit in the final stages of myxomatosis. For those of you unfamiliar with mixxy as we call it, have a look here it's not pleasant

http://www.rguppy.freeserve.co.uk/myxomatosis%20fact%20sheet.htm

Anyway, I decided to do the humane thing and put the poor beast out of its misery, I took my tire iron out of the boot and dispatched it quickly only to see horrified children peering out of the side of a passing car - Judging by their expressions I suspect I may be reviled by these children (now easily adults) to this day as the horrid man who killed the bunny.

Swan Vesta ,

You missed a golden opportunity there Swan Vesta.
In the middle of disposing of the rabbit[whack , whack , whack ] , you ought to have given the children in the car an evil grin and shouted ,
" Just a little hobby of mine , boys and girls........rabbits and children "[whack , whack , whack ]
The car would have skeddaddled , with the children in tears. However it would have taught them a valuble lesson--------not all grown ups are as nice as Rolf Harris.

Oh dear me, I seem to have rather a collection of these stories.

1. Rabbit

The kids were young, and suddenly, there on this isolated, country lane, was a baby rabbit - clearly suffering from myxomatosis. I had no hesitation in deciding to despatch it under the wheels of my car, in order to end its suffering. If only the rabbit had kept still though, whilst I drove forwards and backwards in a manaical attempt to kill it! The kids were o.k. until they felt the bump. But an inspection showed only squashed intestines and the rabbit still breathing. It took two more attempts to end the life of this rabbit, and the poor kids were hysterical by then!

2. Rat

The lad and his friends were in their teens when I mowed down a rat at dusk one evening. We all got out of the car to examine the corpse - but it was still breathing. This time they wanted to watch from the roadside as I repeatedly tried my best to drive over the animal again.

3. Pheasent

I'm on holiday with my son and friends, 2 years ago now, when I collided with the pheasant. It's lying perfectly still on the road, and is clearly dead. We hotfoot back along the lane to retrieve our booty, only to discover that I've changed its shape beyond all recognition under the wheel of my car, and I suspect that not even Jamie Oliver would have known a recipe for squashed game bird. Now I'm castigated for not being able to kill with sufficient precision!

4. Lamb

Don't you just hate it when folk have long memories? It was only a lamb, and I only clipped one leg, and it seemed almost perfectly ok when it hobbled off across the open field. That was more than five years ago now - so why, whenever we are back in that part of the country, do my companions start peering out of the window and pretending they've spotted a sheep with three legs?

5. Frog

What is it with kids that they get so upset over you killing anything on the road? I mean, it was fairly dark, and raining, and I'm driving a mini-bus full of kids over a narrow road in Snowdonia, with a steep drop on one side. Believe me there was no room to maneouvre when the frog suddenly hopped onto the road. The young lad next to me was so upset, he lashed out, and hit me so hard I nearly ploughed the vehicle over the edge!

6. Peacock

This time I was the passenger, when the driver slowed down upon spying a peacock on the road. The bird ambled to the roadside verge, and my driver speeded up. At the point of no return, the peacock decides to step back into the road. I recall this amazing haze of blue that suddenly appeared on the windscreen, and then rolled over the top of the car. We ran back along the road, but the magnificent bird was dead. I was keen on stripping the beautiful feathers off the bird, but my friend insisted on getting away from the scene of the crime - before anyway passed that way and took note of his registration. And to think, that I've since found a recipe for roast peacock. :cry:

I feel better already - thanks everyone! Redrobbo - once is unfortunate, twice a coincidence, anything above three road kills.....maybe now is the time to confess! Are you sure you aren't building a collection of 'trophy dead animals' in a Norman Bates stylee?