January 08, 2011

Abby Meets Bambi

Close encounters of a deer kind.  Up close and in person.  Maybe a little too close.  Traveling to work yesterday morning, at my normal, well-above the speed limit speed, outside of Nutbush, the city girl had a heart-stopping experience.  I hit a deer.

All living creatures should know by now not to come close to Abby as she travels Rte. 19.  Bambi, obviously, missed the message.  I saw it coming across this man's yard, not a field because it is a neatly-tended, wide, piece of property, and hoped that the foolish thing would turn, stop, do something other than come across the highway.  Started putting on the brakes.  Up the embankment and across the oncoming lane, he came.  Beautiful tan color, big brown eyes. My foot has gone so far down on the brake pedal until it is now through the floor board and on the highway.  "Lord, please don't let me hit this deer.  Please."  Thunk. OMG!  I'm screaming.  Car still hasn't come to a stop. Big cars don't stop on a dime.   Looking in the rear view mirror.  Where did it go?   Did it damage the car?  Do I report it to somebody? 

The oncoming cars never slowed down.  No brake lights.  I guess they figured that since Abby hadn't rolled over into the ditch, I was okay.  Too scared to stop and check the front end.  My legs would not have supported me.  Badly need a cigarette. Where are they?  Under the dashboard, in the well of the passenger's seat.  Whip out the cell; somebody needs to tell me what to the game warden (hah!), the police, what?  Everybody's number goes straight to voice mail.

Pull into Wally's lot.  Gather everything that has been strewn over the floor.  Inch around the front of the car.  Don't want to see no dents. Damned sure don't want to see blood.  Try to light the cigarette.  Lips aren't holding it and the hands won't light it. Several tries later, there is that calming puff.  Legs are like rubber as I wobble to the door.   

Well, boys and girls, they had a field day with the city girl.  After showing concern, of course.  "You need to go around to auto and get those things that mount on your car and warn them that you're coming.  They're only $5."  So why didn't someone tell me about these things before?  Thought that I knew about them.  How would I know?  My experience with deer is limited to seeing them in the zoo; a rare sighting on the golf course; and on television.  "You now that they are really active at night and they are really bad this year."  Really?  And I drive Rte. 19 in the dark?  I am now the proud owner of a deer warning system, guaranteed to help reduce accidents. 

Asked Alpha Male if I needed to call somebody.  "Naw."  "Any damage to your car?"  "Oh, you hit him on the butt.  Upset you didn't it?"  Guess I'd turned a white shade of pale.  Everyone seems astounded that I thought that I needed to call someone other than the insurance agency (no damage, thankfully).  The difference between here and where I come from?  You had better report it to the police in MD, VA, and D.C., (yes, D.C. has deer, too), or face a stiff fine or jail time. 

Never a dull day in western Tennessee.  But I really don't need to meet another deer.

Be safe. Be Blessed.

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