RIP Rocky Raccoon

I always get upset when I see roadkill, unless it is a snake or armadillo.  Those animals are disgusting and I feel better knowing there are less of them (so run over all you want, especially near my apartment).  I know that raccoons are mischievous and infested with rabies, but they're so cute (in my mind the cuter the animal the more sympathy it gets).  How can you look at that face and not feel bad you just ran over it? (Unless you are Steve and then I already know how you feel.)

Steve took me to the airport last Tuesday early in the morning when it was still dark outside and while changing lanes I heard him hit a huge rock that sounded like an explosion. I may have shouted a little bit, but in my defense it was only because I thought he blew out our tire (on my side of the car, of course).  I told Steve he should have been paying attention to a huge rock and then he said it wasn't a rock, but that was all he said.  I asked him if it was a raccoon and he said, "Yes."  So then I asked, "Were you not going to tell me it was a raccoon until I specifically asked if it was so that you wouldn't have to tell me and you wouldn't technically be lying?"  And this was his response: "Yes, but in my defense it was already dead.  I just hit it again."  What a sicko.  He has escaped my murder charges this time, but he may not be so lucky in the future.