I know Captain Marvel opened, but my daughter was on an important Disney related scouting mission, meaning I have to wait until next week to see it.
I figured that wouldn’t matter since Detective issue 1000 was also due out this week. Except I can’t read a calendar and was about a month off.
Luckily, my life provides an endless series of comedy material.
Early last week, I received a first birthday card from the dealer for my car in the mail. If that wasn’t weird enough, it came packed with a seed infused piece of paper that could be planted to grow a set of flowers.
“How nice, a deer feeder,” I thought, and put it away for when the temperature rose enough to make the ground both visible and softer than tempered steel.
I guess I didn’t put it out quickly enough for a certain hoofed individual’s liking and someone wanted revenge.
As I was driving home a couple of days later, the local herd of does was crossing in front of me. I stopped, like the rest of the traffic, and started to go again when they seemed to have finished their street bound migration. Before I could get the car moving at any pace, I saw one staring at me from the woods on the side of the road.
I could see in her eyes that she was raring to go.
I considered gunning the engine to speed by her before she launched, and I'm glad I didn't or she would have ended up in the passenger seat.
As I brought the thirty-five hundred pound mass of steel, reinforced plastics and engineering to a halt, a hundred pounds of confused and egotistical artiodactyla ran smack into the front passenger side of the car at full speed. The fender got a dent, and the deer got airborne.
She flipped upside down, landed on the hood and skid across, spinning, in slow motion. As she passed the driver’s side windshield wiper mount, our eyes locked momentarily...
We both screamed.
She then continued an inverted Dukes of Hazzard power slide, and rolled unceremoniously off the hood, leaving a trail of fur in the wake of her path. She continued to bounce and flop a bit on the pavement until finally righting herself, followed by a few wobbly steps, before dashing off into the trees.
After vigorously checking the forest on each side of the street, traffic began tenuously moving in both directions.
A town police officer was heading the other way. We rolled down our windows, shaking our heads until he asked, “She just ran right into you?” I confirmed and added, “I wasn’t even moving.” He asked if the car was OK, we both chuckled a little bewilderedly and went our opposite ways.
I wonder if she was one of the fawns born in the backyard carrying a grudge?