Seriously... who hits a deer?

I do -- that’s who.

So I'm driving home from our softball game last night, the wife, Paige and I are cruising Northbound on Lewvan right by those ball diamonds that are just South of Regina Ave. We are casually talking about my looming trip to Edmonton this weekend, and I turned to look in the back seat to see what Paige had in her hands. Then all of a sudden -- BAM! Badaboomthumpboom! I look to the passenger side to see short haired brown flesh whip past. I gain control of the CR-V, slow it down and pull over -- all the while looking to the front corner of the passenger side to see what kind of damage there is. As I pull over I see this poor bastard of a dumbass runt idiot deer laying in the middle of the lane on Lewvan Drive. Luckily for us, Chad and Candice were following us (as we were en route to Dairy Queen for a little celebratory blizzard action) so they pull over as well.

I get out of my car to survey the damage. It is substantial in its range, but minimal in its severity. A nice touch was the large amount of deer hair caught in the plastic of the wheel well. A nice little reminder indeed. After getting our wits about us and making sure everyone is ok - Paige's eyes were as big as saucers at this point, she didn’t know what the hell was going on - we figure its best to call the Police to have them come get this deer of the Lewvan before someone else hits it, and as I am on the phone with Regina's Finest, 3 or 4 more vehicles decide to stop and view the spectacle. In my opnion, it takes a special kind of person to stop on the Lewvan to see whats going on with a half-dead deer in the middle of the road. And by special I mean odd -- in that creepy does he have human body parts in his fridge kind of way. And yes, by this time, the deer had come around and had even tried to get up and flee the scene - but when it did, its hind legs buckled like the Oilers and it continued to lay there. The Police are about to transfer me to the Dept of Highways to get ahold of a Conservation Officer, and now the crew of onlookers includes Mr. Creepy, a couple younger guys who are talking about "that’s an easy way to hunt" and another older cat. This last older dude claims to have a .22 in the hatch of his 03 Hyundai Tiburon and reportedly asked the Police if he could shoot the deer himself. Shoot the deer himself?? Who does this guy think he is - Jack Bauer?? The Police told him No - thank Christ too, because he had a wild look in his eye - and I'll be honest when I say it was the first time I had ever been afraid of anyone driving a Tiburon (HI-OH!).

Anyway, the clock keeps ticking and Mr. Creepy decided he is going to kneel beside this poor deer and pet it for some reason. I don’t know if he was a deer whisperer of some sort, or if he just had a thing for animals with numerous broken bones and serverly damaged internal organs. Now I'm a compassionate guy, but I think I would think twice before I decided to kneel down and gently stroke the side of a dying deer - IN THE MIDDLE OF EFFING LEWVAN DRIVE!

After about another 5 minutes, the deer finally lifts its head up and looks around - at me. I swear to God he knew it was me that hit him because he gave me a blank stare. I don’t know what it meant, but it was distinct in its blankness. After giving me the eye - the deer hobbles up to its feet - sorry - hooves and again tries to scamper away - across the Lewvan. If you ever thought that scene in Bambi was cute where Bambi just starts to learn to walk - well, believe me - if they ever do a scene where Bambi tries to walk after being hit by a 05 CR-V, its not cute. Its sad and a little disturbing. This poor deer's legs where crossed up like a yoga instructer as it hobbled across Lewvan (amazingly avoiding more traffic) and then it came to its final resting spot in the ditch on the far West side of Lewvan.

Well, the cops finally arrive - and the dude in the Tiburon and the loaded weapon in the back decides its time for him to take his leave, and as they survey the scene in their copl-like fashion, I calmly ask if they need me to do anything or if I can get the hell outta dodge before they take their glocks to Bambi's head. The coppers write me up an accident report for SGI purposes - apparently because blood, spit and deer hair all along the passenger side of my vehicle wouldn’t be enough to make an adjuster believe I hit a deer. As they finish up, the Conservaion Officer rolls up, at which time Mr. Creepy takes off too, leaving only myself, Chaddy and these two younger hunter-types who keep saying things like "They better put that thing down" and "Give me your sidearm, I'll do it - I probably have better aim than you anyway - ah-hyuck".

And while I was curious to see these officers in action and to see them put this poor deer down, I decided to take off -- I mean, we still had to get to Dairy Queen for our celebratory blizzard! We had to celebrate not only our ball game win - but my first kill as well!

(Oh yeah - and one more thing. A little cherry on top of this little story is that the ball diamonds that are right beside where I hit this deer - yup, they were packed with kids 12 and under. I can only imagine the horror. They were probably like - "look Mom a deer!" - then BAM… then tears... then therapy and the removal of that Bambi poster from their bedroom wall.)

I hope you enjoyed this story - as it is another tale in the classic series of "Chris Zimmer and The Worst Luck Possible" -- look for my forthcoming volume entitled "The Time I Threw Away the Winning Lottery Ticket".

signed,
Big Buck Hunter
whoneedsariflewhenyouhaveacr-v@lewvandrive.sk.ca