Can woodland creatures become terrorists?
That is the only explanation I can come up with for what happened. (You know it’s gonna be bad, doncha?)
I was attacked by a militant deer.
I needed the car, so I did the insanity run, got up at 3 AM and rode out to Husband’s office in the next state. Followed the yellow brick road out of Kansas and back into Mazoorah. Almost made it safely home.
Cruising down a rural road near a county lake, I passed the deer crossing sign. I’ve passed this sign hundreds of times, and always wondered, “How do the deer know where to cross?”
Turns out they don’t. At least not the one who decided to wait until I was coming down the hill in the rain. This animal HAD to be lying in wait for me, I’m sure of it. Hiding over there in the brush, plotting its jihad. This deer must have been brainwashed by an extremist forest fatah. Maybe it’s all the subdivisions cropping up. Maybe the cell phone tower signals affected its mind.
All I know is Bambi had a death wish and saw me as a suitable subject for destruction.
So down the road I go, when suddenly this suicidal doe attacked the car by flinging itself in front of the moving vehicle.
I had about two seconds of warning. I did slam on the brakes, but the next sound was “THUMP!”
Jane Doe bit the dust.
I felt horrible about killing the animal, even though it was clearly a suicide. I didn’t know how severe the damage was until I got home. Pretty bad. (Photos)
This meant I had to cry, then pull myself together and call Husband. Then contact the insurance company. Then cry some more.
I took the car to the insurance claims office and they were very nice to me. They even told me that the rental coverage was going to be upgraded because they didn’t have a mid-size sedan available. Visions of Porches danced in my head - LOL
Then they took me outside. There was the biggest damn pickup truck I’ve ever seen. I needed an extension ladder to get up into it. I could see the roof of the building - below me. But it was what they had, so off I went in the bowels of MonsterTruck. It was the most uncomfortable vehicle I’ve ever driven, but I was so afraid of all the flashing lights and readouts, I didn’t let on. It was like being with Hal from 2001:A Space Odyssey. It told me what direction I was going, the outside temperature, how many miles per gallon (or more like gallons per mile) it was consuming, how many miles to our destination and my body mass index.
I hated it. Fortunately, they were able to exchange it today for a lovely little PT Cruiser. Cute. Fun to drive. Doesn’t make me think it will kill me in my sleep. Doesn’t take a hundred dollars worth of gasoline to get to the end of driveway.
Husband’s car will be in the shop until the middle of next week. I will be in therapy for months.
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