From the Front Grill to the Charcoal Grill?

Hello folks, let’s chat…I didn’t want to hit the armadillo. The poor thing darted in the wrong direction. I do want it on record that I didn’t retrieve the carcass. Why? Because I’ve been living under the assumption that here in the land of the free a person has a right to pull meat from the front grill and toss it on the charcoal grill, no questions asked. Wrong. I’ve recently learned retrieving road kill is illegal in my state unless you have permission from the Dept of Wildlife and Fisheries. I’ve never picked up road kill, nor do I plan to, but I know people who have. Water-board me if you must; I won’t give up names. I will, however, share a road kill story.

One day a group of Oklahoma relatives were speeding towards their small town for the annual parade. They were running late and feeling testy about it, knowing the early birds would snag all the prime front row real estate. And that’s when the deer appeared out of nowhere! The speeding driver swerved, to no avail. Down went the deer and out came the family to assess the situation. All agreed it’d a shame to waste fresh meat. The consensus: toss the carcass in the bed of the pickup and proceed.

A short time later they were entering town when “the road kill that wasn’t” regained consciousness. The poor thing staggered to his unsteady feet, as disoriented as the truck’s occupants were oblivious, due in large part to the rearview mirror lying on the dash. And just like that, the Okie relatives weren’t only at the parade, they were starring in it, though they were quite confused as to why their friends and neighbors were laughing and pointing as they passed. That is, until they stopped at the red light. A holy commotion erupted when that deer jumped out and ran for his life. They say he parted that crowd like Moses splitting the Red Sea.

I love that story. Legal or not, it offers the perfect slogan for mobile dining: “Road kill, the original fast food.”

Hugs, Shellie