Deerly Beloved

Things can change in a nano-second. One minute, you're moving along in your life, perhaps even having a great day and feeling hopeful, and the next, you are reminded of how precarious life can be. Last night Kelly and I had one of those moments. If anything had been slightly different, it's possible we would not be alive.
We had spent the entire weekend enjoying various activities and meals and socializing with friends. We were on our way back from a fly-fishing excursion in Deckers, and moving through the pitch blackness of Highway 85, between Sedalia and Highlands Ranch, near the town of Louviers. Kelly had requested my original music on the stereo and "Something in Me" was playing. We were happy and tired from our wonderful weekend.

Then something appeared a few feet in front of her car. A large buck-deer. It was as if it had fallen from the sky directly in front of us. There was no time to react. The only thought i recall is, it's too close. We're going to hit it. And then the expletive, FUCK. 

Then BAM.

We made impact in the front passenger side where i was, striking the animal in the hindquarters, and it was just gone, as quickly as it had appeared. By this time, she had braked a little, and we were just continuing down the road, slowly, staring ahead, shocked and trying to assimilate what had just happened. I said, "Kelly....pull over. Pull over..." She did and we just sat there for a few minutes, realizing that we had somehow managed to emerge unscathed from a potentially deadly accident.

I think because we hit him while he was running, and impacted his hindquarters, the momentum just spun him toward the ditch. If we had hit him broadside, things could have been so much worse. Since we were in a small car, it would have been easy for him to have flipped right through our windshield.

I recalled all the stories of deer-impacts on roadways. Some of the stories were straight out of a horror movie. The beast is propelled through the front window, severely injuring or even killing the passengers; sometimes the deer would still be alive, and it would be flailing and kicking, and the passengers would be further injured or killed by that. This particular animal was huge. Maybe 8 or 10 point Buck, with a formidable rack of antlers. I imagined us being gored by those as we sat pinned in the vehicle with him thrashing in pain and confusion.

Soon, i was thinking practicalities and mercy. I had to squeeze through the passenger door, as it was jammed a little by the side panel, and I took pictures of the damage, which was, surprisingly, not half as bad as it could have been. Then she called the Sheriff's department and asked about filing a report for insurance and we also wanted to get someone from game and fish to find the poor animal and either help it or euthanize it. I didn't think there was any way it was going to survive, though. 

I thought about the experience I'd had with a previous girlfriend, where we were on a trip in Colorado, no less, and had experienced the same vision while driving at night--I had been trying to take a nap in the back seat, and Em was driving. In my mind, while dozing, a vivid and violent scene unfolded--quick seconds of tragedy. I had seen us hitting a deer in the road, and it had come through the front window. I sat straight up and in a panic, said "Baby--"
She said, "Did you see that too?"
"I saw a deer and--"
"We hit it and it came through the windshield--"
We both had to stop and get hold of ourselves, wondering at the strangeness of the event. Not wanting to tempt fate, I had suggested that if this was some kind of warning, we needed to change our timeline. So we pulled over and took a break. When we got back on the road, only a few minutes later, we saw a herd of deer crossing the road in front of us, and they were almost out of site onto the other side. We shared a spooky look with each other.

And Kelly and I -- yesterday--I took a video only an hour or so earlier, where a deer had been down the slope of the overlook we stopped at. Now, it seemed a portent of things to come...

(This short vid is of us sitting in the car talking only a moment after it happened.)

As we sat there in Kelly's car, absorbing what had just happened to us, I heard some thrashing sounds, and eventually, we saw it in the hillside brush, stumbling, its back leg obviously broken, and perhaps its back. It was half falling down the incline and trying to walk. We both were overcome with sadness and heartsick to see the suffering of this beautiful beast. Then we lost sight of it, and made some more calls and finally a State Trooper arrived. 

He took a report and told us that he would have to go out there with his flashlight and find the deer, and shoot it. It was sickening to think about, because Kelly and I are both HSP's and thus very sensitive, but we knew it was the merciful thing. This animal would have either starved while suffering or been attacked by other animals-like wolves- and torn to shreds while still alive. A bullet is always a better alternative. 


But, amid this tragic event for an innocent animal, we realized that there was much to be thankful for.

We had just had a Near Death Experience. We had beaten the odds.
We felt so lucky. So unbelievably, inexplicably lucky.

Deerly Beloved

Jae-Walking

My new exercise program consists primarily of walking, (and sometimes Jumping to Conclusions). I prefer walking the golf course for several reasons:

• aesthetics (Not many parks around here--the golf course is the "parkiest" place,
• convenience--it's just down the hill,
• the winding, undulating path gives variety to the muscle-workout, and
• I guess I have a secret desire to be beaned with a golf ball.

There's a little old man on a golf cart who patrols the area; he's more like the Hall Monitor than a Security Guard. My first encounter with him went something like this:

He whirs up next to me and stops, saying, "You shouldn't be walking here."

Obligingly, I play along. "Why not?"

"You could get hit by a golf ball."

"Interesting you should bring that up," I say, proud of my forethought in doing a little Googling, just on the off-chance I might have this exact encounter. "There is a zero point 1 percent chance of that happening. Odds are higher that I'll be struck by lightning. I think I'll take my chances." I have a moment of abject fear when i hear thunder in the distance, but just decided that this irony would be too profound to consider, and was instead the slurry of bad comedies. "I think I'll take my chances," I add, knowing that the odds of getting struck by lighting while golfing were much higher, but i wasn't golfing. I was walking. Jaywalking, apparently. (Jae, walking. snort snort).

He rubs his chin and squints into the sun, mumbling, "Well...still...we wouldn't want to be responsible if it did happen, you know..."

"I'd be happy to sign a waiver," I say, smiling.

He moves something around inside his mouth and offers, "Well, okay... but keep your eyes peeled." And he whirs away on the little cart. Peeling eyes. Eye peeling. Colloquialisms from hell.

The next day, we cross paths again and he smiles and greets me like we're friends. I pause and say, "Aren't you going to offer me a ride?"

His caterpillar eyebrows squirmed high on his forehead. "I thought you were walking for exercise."

"Still, it's only proper to offer. It's really hot today."

"Would you like a ride?" he asked agreeably.

"No thanks. I'm trying to get my exercise." I walked away, smiling, and heard him chuckle behind me. I don't know why I feel the need to fuck with people so much.

After a midnight run through Wal-Mart, I decided that my earlier walk and the shopping still was not enough to make up for the cheese sticks I indulged in for lunch, so I decided to go one more round on the golf course. It was one in the morning....No golf ball hazards, I told myself. No whirring, Golfing Police with caterpillar eyebrows and a concern for my well-being and the liability of the country club. And perhaps more important for my winter-loving ass, no blazing noonday sunshine.

So, I'm walking around the dark course, realizing that although I had the presence of mind to bring a flashlight, it's still spooky in the pitch dark outside with all that greenspace. Night time critters, doncha know. Or the errant serial killer. I stopped after getting about 100 yards into it...had one of those moments. Should I go back? Did i think this through properly?

Luckily, any continued distress was alleviated by the fact that I had a pistol in my kangaroo pouch (no, i don't have a flap of skin on my belly...on second thought, maybe I do..I have lost some weight. Anyway...) I pulled the diminutive .25 out of the pouch and held it, redirected the flashlight and started walking again. What event, I mused, would justify me firing this gun? I had a quick image of a rabid raccoon hugging my legs and gnawing a hole in my kneecap. Not likely, but dramatic enough to entertain me. Then I had an image of a buck deer, trying to impale me with his antlers. Why would he do that? I was in his territory and he mistook me for another buck deer? Ridiculous, even though I do have quite a rack.

The only wildlife I did see was either a raccoon or a possum, and all I could really make out was two glowing eyes as he begrudgingly moved toward the taller grass. I finally made my way around the other side, realizing I could put my pistol back in the pouch, as it was unlikely I'd need to use it, and if I did, it would not be a quick draw.

Feeling like those cheese sticks had magically increased my Body Mass Index to 62%, I headed for the footbridge, vowing to eat only fruit and drink only water tomorrow. Then I saw the headlights. Headlights pointed toward the golf course. Toward ME. I thought, ah, there's that serial killer, now, my hand moving to the opening of the pouch, locating the handle of the .25. Admittedly, it was the type of firearm that would only piss off any attacker, and distract him long enough for me to escape, but it was better than just a flashlight and a kangaroo pouch. I continued moving toward my Blazer and he got out and said, "Hello!" Maybe it's the Caterpillar Eyebrows dude. When the beam of a Maglite caught me in the face, I realized who it was. A cop. Now, I had a quick hope for something like this::


But what I got was this:

I could now see the white car, with the stripe on the side and those precious twirling blue lights on the top, thankfully not in use at the moment. I understood that he was checking out who the oddball was walking on the golf course in the pitch dark with a flashlight. "Everything okay?" he asked.

That's when it occurred to me that having a gun in your kangaroo pouch with an inquisitive cop a few yards away, was not one of my better situations. I knew I could not give him any reason to be suspicious. My creative, novel-writing mind kicked in. So I lied. I told him I had dropped my cell phone earlier and had to come back and look for it.

He immediately accepted that, and I thanked him for asking, and said it was good to know that the Bella Vista Police Department was out and about, keeping everyone safe. Considering the zero crime rate in this little retirement village, that was such an overstatement, it bordered on sarcasm, so I decided to zip it. He wished me a good evening and pulled away to investigate some other menace. Like a buck deer goring a raccoon on another golf course.

Jae-Walking

Doe, A Deer, A Female Deer. Giz, My silly little Mutt.

I let my dog Gizmo out, but when i went to let him back in, he was gone, Not an unsual situation, since he has a tendency to run off in the daytime. He's got an unhealthy affinity for the pig farm across the way. This always means a lot of work for me, to get him cleaned up. So it was with some trepidation that i stood on the front porch and called, my voice ringing through the neighborhood. He either couldn't hear me, or was ignoring me. About that time, i noticed the deer that was standing about 75 yards in front of my house in the little grove of trees. The deer stared at me and so i said Hi. I always say hi to the deer. I think they're cute. (I let them hide in my yard during deer season. I think word's gotten around among them).

Well, the deer walked toward me and i said, "Are you coming in for coffee?" She stopped, blinked a few times, and then snorted, running off to my left into the woods, making a big production of her flight, complete with those bounding jumps, even though there was nothing on the ground to jump over. I said, "Well, that was a little overdone, Bambi." She paused on the side of the house, big ears perked, alert. She thought shw as concealed behind some high brush, but she wasn't. I looked toward her again and said, "I seeeee yooouuuu...." So she turned and ran back in front of me, through the yard instead of into the woods away from me. (Strange. It made me laugh). I heard her go into the woods behind my house.

A few seconds later, as i was calling for Giz again, the deer reappeared on my left, having circled around the house and come back. She stood there and stared at me some more and i started laughing. "What are you doing?" i asked her, fully prepared for her to answer during this odd moment. She made that big dramatic bounding flight back into my front yard, where she was near the grove of trees again. About this time, Giz came trotting toward the house and onto the porch and i pointed the deer out to him. "Look, Gizzy--it's a deer." The deer moved around and made some noise, and Giz spotted her, whined, and launched off the porch for a good chase. The two of them disappeared toward the road that runs in front of my house. I called Giz again and he started back, huffing and puffing. About halfway back, i noticed that the deer was right behind him, Following him. Giz heard her too, and turned around to reprimand her with a bark. The deer whirled and ran again, and Giz gave chase once more. Then i called him to the porch and he came to sit beside me, huffing and puffing even more, but smiling. (Yes, dogs smile). I watched as the deer walked through the yard in front of us and back into the woods.

I suspect they are friends.

Doe, A Deer, A Female Deer. Giz, My silly little Mutt.