Bullets & Headlights

I am one of many. The two-legs believe that the numbers of our kind should be controlled so that we don't overpopulate the land they believe is rightfully theirs. Laws have been implemented to control our increasing numbers. The two-legs come at a specific season, stalking us with their shiny machines. We're just a waste of space- or perhaps tasty meals for their greedy bellies. Some of us are lucky though. A common death among my species is not only by a bullet but also surprisingly by a pair of headlights. I say that they are lucky only because they don't have to fear being hunted any longer. Their end is usually swift if they collide at the right point of their body. I know a few who have purposefully chose this as their end. Like little insects to a bug zapper. Only they sorrowfully know what to expect. I weep for my kind because we are always thought of inconsiderably. We are insignificant. They don't understand the fear we feel hiding with our young, always keeping our ears to the skies. We used to roam free without worry. I suppose times have changed and this is the life we must live now. Priorities first, right? I guess we fall very low on their list.