Warning: Not to be read while eating or if you have a weak stomach.
I hope today improves. It has to.
I hit a deer on the way to work, less than 1/4 mile from my house. It came out of no where and by the time I saw it, I was squarely aiming for it’s side. Amazing what damage going 40 mph can do hitting an object that size (it wasn’t tiny). I had my “beater” car, and felt a big whoosh! as I hit… glass from the headlights tinkling and pieces of the grill shattering all over the place. One minute the deer was there, the next it was gone. Sitting at a standstill, I tried to get out of the car to see what damage there was, but the door wouldn’t open. My nerves jarring, I looked out over my … well, not so straight hood. I realized it had buckled and was probably pushed into the edge of the door, causing it to be blocked. Fearing if I got it open I wouldn’t get it closed, I decided to limp it home, since it was still running. Steam was coming out from under the hood, but I figured as close to home as I was it would be okay.
I turned around, looking to see if I could see signs of the deer anywhere… hoping it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. No signs. Maybe it was going to be okay?
As I drove home, another huge buck lept across the road. I watched it, to see if it stopped – perhaps noticing the other one, but it kept going. I got home and slid across the bench seat to the passenger door which worked fine. I walked around front and felt sick. The whole grill is gone, as well as the headlights on the driver’s side and the hood is pushed in. The worst? It had um…”stuff”… on it. I’m guessing stomach contents. Looked a lot like chewed up grass. Ugh.
I call Hubs at coffee and break the bad news to him. Yeah, I’m okay. Yeah, at least it was the beater. Okay, I’m going to get my good car and head to work now…
I go exceptionally slowly through the area where I hit the deer. I’m hoping not to see anything. I realize that I’m probably going to see a dead deer. I steel myself for this… then, I see it. It’s not dead, but it’s not in good shape. It’s thrashing in the ditch, trying to get to it’s feet. I know this can’t be good. After the way my car looked, it’s going to die. Why couldn’t it have died quickly? I’m tormented with that thought as I call my husband again. I’m crying as I try to tell him what I see. He thinks at first I’m upset about the car… then he gets it. He’s lived with me enough years to know what’s really going on. He promises me he’ll take care of it. Have I mentioned I love this guy?
Today has to get better. It just has to. I can’t feel much worse at this point.
(Update: He just called. The deer was dead when he got there. )