Deerly Departed

A number of years ago when I first began renovation on my country house, I had a number of trades people doing work for me.  One day, a couple of the younger guys got around to talking about their fondness of venison and the upcoming deer hunting season.  One of the other workers,  who was somewhat older, said that he loved venison too but was “over” hunting deer.  He said that he knew he’d get all the meat he could eat just by virtue of the number of deer he accidentally hit each year with his pickup.

Last weekend, while driving my Miata near my house, Yduj and I were in the middle of what, I’m almost sure, was a really interesting conversation when out of the blue, a large deer bounded right in front of the car.  The deer bounced off the front of the car and disappeared.  I braked hard and the Miata went into a long skid before coming to a stop.  Yduj and I were both stunned; our first thoughts were that there was a wounded deer nearby and neither of us knew what to do about it.  I had a brief vision of having to give the deer mouth to mouth.  Not a pleasant thought.  Even worse, I then imagined that Yduj might have to do it.  Which would have been an even bigger problem.  I have a strict rule about kissing someone who has had anything even close to resembling deer foreplay.

At any rate, a guy who had been driving behind me stopped and got out of his car.  He checked to see that we were alright and then assured us that he had seen the deer run off into the thicket on the side of the road.  Although I was greatly relieved that a tragedy seemed to have been avoided, I was still pretty shaken.  I explained to Yduj that in all the years I’ve been driving, I’ve never hit anything (other than the bottle) and that I was now feeling totally at the mercy of the deer in the area; that they were all just poised to dive in front my car at any moment trying to commit deeracide.

We continued on our way to visit our friends, boB and Lav; all the way  I was feeling that another incident was right around the next bend.  Yduj thought that it was a remote possibility that we would hit another deer the rest of the day. I figured the chances were about one in three.  When we arrived, we told boB and Lav about the near dear slaying.  boB asked how fast I had been driving.  When I told him that we were going at a modest speed, it revived an old discussion we have had about the effect of car speed on the likelihood of hitting a deer.  Once again, we decided to agree to disagree. . . and have a drink.

On our way home, on the very road where the car and deer denting took place,  I saw a number of deer in the woods lining the route.  And none of them were anywhere near the “Deer Crossing” signs.  Which made me realize–maybe the authorities have been taking the wrong approach in their efforts to prevent cars from hitting deer.  I think it would make a lot more sense to have signs facing the woods to alert the deer to the dangers that may await them.