On a lesson with a pupil on Tuesday, we’d just driven away from his house in a small village and were heading off down a rural road with a national speed limit.
We’d just accelerated to about 50mph when a rabbit ran into the road. It did the usual “double take” – ran out, saw us, ran a bit back, then ran back again – then BAM-BAM. Straight under both wheels.
It was only a baby one, about as big as a cricket ball. After we’d gone over it, it was more the size of a labrador – albeit only in two dimensions.
Seriously, at least we killed it outright. It went directly under the front and back wheels and we flattened it.
It was actually the first time I’ve had a road kill on a lesson – and only one of a handful of times I’ve killed anything in my years of driving. I hate doing it, but you get used to it – and a cuddly baby bunny isn’t really much different to a grotty adult one with myxomatosis, or even a pheasant (the stupidest bird on the planet, because why would you walk in the middle of the road so much when you can fly?)
I often get pupils who can easily overlook an elderly couple stepping on to a zebra crossing, but who will slam on the brakes for a pigeon (aka “flying rat”).
The pupil this time was OK about it, but he said he didn’t like doing it. On the way back I pointed out that it was now food for a Magpie.