Death of the Kangaroo

It is impossible to conjure any images of Australia without the kangaroo. It adorns their national seal, occupies all their post cards, and is generally talked about a lot. Countless Aussies have told stories of how kangaroos are worse than deer, causing countless deaths and thousands of dollars worth of damage to cars and shrubbery around the nation. Apparently, there is an unspoken agreement of who gets to take the head and who gets to take feet in case of a collision. So, given how married Australia and Kangaroo are, why is it after two weeks here, I have yet to see a single one?

Don't get me wrong, I accept that the kangaroo may have, at one time, existed. Their carcasses are scattered across the highways with a milemarker-like regularity, but live ones are nowhere to be found. On my third day here, I had the great fortune to see their national sealmate the emu. I've been assured that they only come out at night, just go to the local golf course at dawn or dusk and I'll see plenty. As much as I would love to see a kangaroo, I don't believe my brain handle the image of a nocturnal kangaroo fraternally drinking beer and putting balls. It is much easier for me to accept that fact that the kangaroo is now extinct; once every spring, on most likely a Wednesday, schoolchildren are taken on fossil hunting field trips along the major highways to learn how mankind's infrastructure has destroyed yet another of nature's wonders.