Roadkill

Squirrels breed during winter/ early spring.

The tiny little squirrels with barely bushy tails frolic about in the yards.
Then they grow up under the watchful eyes of the adults.

It's May and they are still tiny, but have grown up a bit.
With tails as long as their body, they run across yards, venturing out in a larger radius.

Come June, and the adventurous are out to explore. They test the asphalt on the road, that's easy peasy.
They get to a busy road, they get stumped at the yellow line.
Is it ok to step on, do I have to step over? Will it hurt me?

Those few moments of indecision prove fatal.

Is it the Darwin-ic survival of the fittest, that it didn't have what it takes to survive?
Was it Icarus-esque, that it dared to fly too close to the sun?
Was it the car driver whose efficient brain assumed the squirrel would cross at a certain pace?

Or was it the system that was stacked against the squirrel? That it didn't not provide the scaffolding that it needed till it was ready?