R.I.P

About 2 weeks ago, I had a very strange event happen. Here's how it went:

I walked up the driveway to go to Adam's house to get an Ap American review from him that I needed to study. I manually unlocked the truck's driver-side door (nope, no automatic locks here!) and tossed my purse onto the passenger seat. I proceeded to hop in and put the key in the ignition. I turned it and instead of hearing the solo buzz of the engine humming to life, I also caught a strange pop/bang sound. A little confused but unconcerned, I checked to make sure Otis had moved away from the car and then put the truck into reverse and backed up about 5 feet. When I looked forward I immediately jammed on the breaks, put the truck into park and hopped right back out. Underneath where the truck had been before I reversed, I saw quite the sight. On the right there was a pile of weird black plastic and bolts, and on the left was this number.



This picture does not do it justice. The splotches just look gray, but let me tell you-in real life they were a good shade of red. All of a sudden it clicked in my head what had happened and I was terribly disgusted. I called to my mom who was outside doing yard work and she came over and also quickly put the situation together. We opened the hood of the truck and to my dismay, I saw this:



Yep, that's right. I blew up a squirrel! Still wondering about the pile of plastic? That would be the work of Otis. Trying to get the squirrel, he tore apart the bottom of the truck. Poor little Nutsy (that's what we call squirrels over at our house...) was scared to death of the big mean dog that had pinned it inside the truck and the next thing he knew, he was a goner.

Sorry Nutsy! I didn't enjoy this experience almost as much as you didn't.