There is nothing that causes more anxiety for me than the possibility of hitting a deer. I would rather drive on ice, torrential downpours and/or a bus full of screaming babies, then run the risk of hitting a deer. I think it’s the fear of the unknown…oh and the fact that they can kill you.
And it’s not like deer rarely happen. Those fuckers are everywhere, all the time, 24/7. I see dead deer on the side of the highway, north of downtown and I’m like, “Where did you even come from? It’s nothing but crack houses for the next 2 miles. Do you live in a crack house deer? Is that it? Is that why you seem to have no idea what you are doing when you hit a car?”
Maybe this is why I have anxiety about deer…
- As a child, I was on my dad’s motorcycle (him driving of coarse). We were hit by a deer and almost fell over. At the time, I didn’t understand the severity of the situation. All I cared about was the deer’s well-being.
- About 9 years ago, one dumb-ass deer darted and hit the side of my car. It’s dented to this day.
- My in-laws hit a deer a few years back. When we looked at the damage, there were massive chunks of hair in the headlights. ‘Serves it right,’ I thought.
- The scariest was when my husband was driving our then pre-school age son to school. He swerved to miss a deer (#1 rule-always hit the deer!), hits ice and flips the car upside down. They hung upside down for a while till a car of good Samaritans pulled over and helped them out. My husband suffered a concussion (he wasn’t wearing his seat belt) and a broken nose. My son? Not 1 scratch on him!
So you can see why I’m a little anxious….actually, a lot anxious. I thought about this post today when my deer intuition kicked in on my drive in to work today. I look over and sure enough, 2 of those little ass-holes were just staring at me.
“What cha’ gonna do about it?” Their unemotional faces said to me.
“We might dart out in front of you,” the deer continued, shrugging their shoulders, “we might not. We’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Another thing, they are so stupid. Have they not learned over the years that you probably aren’t going to make the crossing successfully? Someone is going to die and it’s going to be Bambi, Bambi’s mother, Bambi’s father or all of them, collectively.
I’ve just come to accept I’m screwed and that I am going to have deer anxiety for the rest of my life. They are cute but they are the absolute worst! I don’t have any answers, I’m just bitching about it because it drives me batty. Am I the only one here that has A. been hit by a deer and/or B. have anxiety, anticipating their next encounter with a deer?