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Alas, poor Woodrow! I didn’t know him well. | Fetch My Flying Monkeys
Everyone needs a fleet of flying monkeys to rip the stuffing out of the annoying people in their lives
— Laura

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while you’d know that since getting my last car, I have struck and killed some wildlife. Seriously, I had never hit any animal prior to getting this car. It’s true. Since it’s been a while since I’ve hit anything I was starting to think my car had fulfilled it’s lust for blood, that is, until this past Saturday. While driving back from town, I pulled onto my street and from out of nowhere flew a beautiful woodpecker straight toward my windshield. I applied the brakes, served a bit into the other lane, but BAM!, sadly, it was too late. And so now is the time I give the latest victim of my Murder Car a proper name and a proper eulogy poem, because, well, that’s the kind of crazy I do.

 

Ode To Woodrow the Woodpecker
A Poem of Eulogy by Laura Ledford

You flew with so much fancy, from tree to tree you flit
But then you hit my windshield, you stupid little shit

I tried to swerve to miss you, but you hit with a thud like a rock
Like something straight out of The Birds by Alfred Hitchcock

And at first I thought I just clipped you, and perhaps you were not dead
But I saw your body flop, and on the window were parts of your head

Now you’ve gone to fly and hunt bugs hopefully in a heavenly sky of blue
Go in peace, my friend, ’till we meet again, and I’m sorry my car killed you

 

Now if everyone would please hit the ‘Play’ button and bow their heads in a moment of reflection and try to remember Woodrow as he was, not as the feathery flopping, headless mess he left here on Earth. Fly home, little dude. Fly home.

30 Comments
 

30 Responses to Alas, poor Woodrow! I didn’t know him well.

  1. Suzanne says:

    The car wash is all like, “It’s blood, alright, but from what.” “Is that brains?” “Jesus, why don’t the cops know about this one?” Leave ‘um a good tip, my friend. Buy their silence.

  2. Suzanne says:

    BTW – What is it about your car that says “Animal suicides welcome?”

  3. Jena says:

    Dammit! we have that type of woodpecker too. They bring their babies to the suet. Poor orphaned babies. You need to have that car exorcized! Ha

  4. Your life is never boring, which is why I live vicariously through it.

  5. Alison says:

    Well, maybe it was a bad bird deserving of murder. Like, maybe it left a nest full of needy fledglings to go flirt with underage chickadees, or peck at the eyes of innocent raccoons. (Wait, is there such a thing as an innocent raccoon?)

  6. Suzanne says:

    Shit! What if the woodpecker was a suicide-bomber full of rabies?

  7. Janie Jones says:

    Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! That’s the Woody Woodpecker song. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! He’s a-singin’ it all day long.

    Go in peace Woody.

  8. Rosie says:

    Every eulogy should include the deceased being called a stupid little shit. So it has been written, so it shall be done.

  9. Kevin says:

    Probably the best eulogy I’ve ever read. I feel as though I was there.

  10. Jess says:

    That’s one bad ass windshield you have on your car. Woodpeckers spend their days beating their heads against tress and “WHAM” one strike by your windshield leaves woodpecker brains on the glass.

  11. SB Smith says:

    Love your Ode to Woodrow.

    I think some birds around here are adrenaline junkies and they perch near the streets – Daring each other to fly right in front of cars…around here that’s right level with the grills…. I just Hate that.

  12. Mark12A says:

    Just let me know when you’ll be driving down my street. I’ll be up a fucking tree. Probably getting pecked by Woodrow’s cousin. All the while screaming, “It wasn’t me!”

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