Mrs. Grouse's Demise

Today I drove to Pemberton to pick up my friend Stephanie from her apartment for a weekend visit. After a quick tour of her place we hopped in the car and headed back to Fountainview where I live. I was driving along, enjoying our conversation, when I noticed in the road, a grouse stepping along. She was not walking very fast. Merely meandering across the road. She was still in the other lane, and I just knew that at the pace she was going, I would surely be able to make it by her before she reached my lane. I sped up. To my dismay, she too began moving faster. I drove faster, she ran faster. There was nothing I could do. She was almost in my lane now. Faster she came!    And then with soft thud it was over. I drove on. It was too late for Mrs. Grouse. We said a few solemn words on her behalf (mostly about Mr. Grouse and any possible eggs) and continued on our trip.

We stopped in town to buy some groceries. Steph and I were walking out of the grocery store towards my car, when I noticed that Mrs. Grouse, was still, in fact, with us. There she was, wedged in my front bumper. Wings oddly flaring out, head at a peculiar angle, eyes glassed over. It was a rather shocking sight. I was not about to extract her in such a public setting, leaving her body abandoned on the parking lot pavement. No, we would dispose of her body in a more private, rural setting. So Stephanie and I set off to Fountainview with Mrs. Grouse still boldly displayed in my front bumper. As we neared Fountainview I pulled over onto a wide gravel shoulder. It was time for my car and Mrs. Grouse to go their separate ways. It was not so simple.


I gingerly tugged on one wing hoping for a simply, easy extraction. Nothing really happened. Stephanie and I then took turns yanking on her feet and legs. She budged a little bit, but our pulling mostly caused her insides to begin squishing out. Things were not going as I'd planned. Stephanie again pulled on her feet, and this time they moved, but I realized to my dismay, that she had disattached in the middle and her upper half was still entirely lodged. We tossed her lower half to the side. Reluctantly I pulled on her neck, but it seemed her neck was not sturdy enough to bring the rest of her lodged body with it. It was time for a plan B. I found a small sturdy-looking branch nearby and began to pry at poor Mrs. Grouse's remains. Insides were oozing onto the bumper, small feathers puffed out. I was making a mess of things and still she did not dislodge. I continued to poke at her. A pickup truck was just beginning to drive by us on the road, when it slowed and pulled over. The two older native men looked at us. "Hit a grouse, did you?" the driver offered. The other man climbed out of the truck and squatted down next to me. With his gloved hand he pulled the top of the grouse out and threw her to the side next to her bottom half. Taking the stick from me, he used it to clean off the rest of her inner remains. "I thought you'd had a flat tire" he stated as I thanked him. The truck roared off. Steph and I climbed back into my car and with one final glance at Mrs. Grouse's divided remains I drove off as a cloud of small fluffy feathers puffed up behind me.