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Going off in my little car to the golf driving range, we went along what’s called Pheasant Alley, because lemming-like pheasants throw themselves willy nilly under cars.

One such incautious pheasant had just had an encounter with a car. Damaged on the road, I decided to put it out of its misery (planning dinner at the same time). I stopped and did my worst. I placed it in the rear of the car and drove off. Remembering it next day, I checked the boot. Undead, it was eyeing me suspiciously from the rear seat well. No dinner after all!

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