Tuesday, November 16, 2004

The Death Spree Has Ended!

I used to have a Nissan Pulsar...it was nicknamed the 'Death Mobile'...due to the fact that throughout it's existence it managed to kill every animal indigenous to South-Eastern Pennsylvania...at least once. Cat, dog, squirrel, birds, groundhog, skunks and a deer....well, actually it didn't KILL the deer...

Preface: Now, you have to understand that I am a HUGE animal nut. I worked at a vet (at working-at-a-vets very minimal pay) for nine years. I have been known to swerve to avoid squirrels and almost kill Richard Simmons silky-shorts joggers. JustRose and I went out this weekend and I sat in the road for a good 4 or 5 minutes honking at the stupidest Pheasant alive -as it sat there and looked at me with a blank stare... and cars honked and tried to weave around me...

Coming home from the bank other day I almost hit a deer...which took me back to a most unpleasant memory...
It was Halloween night 1994...It was a dark and stormy night, and the moon...oh, wrong story. Anyway, I was coming home from an Educational Psych class and "Anyway You Want It" was playing. I was on 'Kill-A-Deer' Road...
...Suddenly she shot out from between two parked cars. There was a lot of traffic. I tried to swerve, but there was no where to go. She made the sickest noise as she slammed into my little car, slid up the hood and crashed into my windshield. A crunchy thud. She slid back off and onto the road. I got out of the car to see her (two broken legs protruding awkwardly...one North the other South) trying to propel herself across the street into the traffic speeding by the other way. I stood in the middle of the road with my arms out like a crossing guard, crying and pleading with her to stop. Yes, I was talking to the deer in the middle of a very busy street during rush hour. And?!

It would seem that most people are NOT animal lovers in rush hour and a million people proceeded to beep, scowl and scream really 'not-nice' words at the top of their lungs. Then I did something really stupid. I knelt down and held the maimed deer so she wouldn't move. How I didn't get hoofed to death is beyond me. I vaguely remember a giant Bronco pull up behind my car and then there was a giant 'Paul Bunyan' guy beside me. I was trying to tell him what happened...
"She ran right out...there was nothing I could do...she won't stop trying to move...everyone's screaming at me...she's going to get hit again...She...Aghhhhh! WTF? What did you just do? Oh My God! You F'ing lunatic...I'm going to kill you...."
Paul had taken out a giant hunting knife and slit her throat...right there...in my lap...before I had a clue what was going on.
"She was in pain."
Screaming at the top of my lungs, "You could have warned me you freak, you (many, many expletives)..."
Paul walked away shaking his head (like I was the one that needed help?!), got into his monster truck and left. Just like that. Kill and leave.
Anyway, the cops showed up and when I asked what was going to happen to my deer they informed me that there was a WAITING LIST for dead deer road kill...uhm, Ewwww....
I got back into my car...of course the damn pop-up lights were destroyed and I had to drive home through little back streets on Halloween night with no lights. The annoyed motorists where promptly replaced with parents of small children chastising me, cursing me and screaming for me to turn on my "f'ing lights..."

Fast-forward to 1996 when my boyfriend-from-that-time C started bouncing at a bar near my house. He is sitting at the bar with a fellow Harley dude and they start talking about hunting. Harley dude begins to relay a story about a deer and a lunatic little blonde in a silver car... C tells him that I was his girl at the time and that he scarred me for life...they laugh, at my expense, and do some more shots...

So the other day, as I was once again driving down 'Kill-A-Deer' Road with both boys in tow, and I saw three deer run into the road, my heart sank...no, not again. I slowed down, swerved a bit to the right and the deer ran past the Jeep in plenty of time. Until then I hadn't thought about the fact that not one animal had died by my wheels since that horrible October night. I would like to think that this was a sign that my death spree ended the day that damn Pulsar was towed to the junkyard...the curse has been lifted and I shall kill no more...

*Note to hunters/throat slitters: I understand this may be a hobby (a skill even) and I realize that it's terrible when animals are in pain...BUT please, do not skin your kill OR dramatically kill anything in front of me...EVER...some of us just can't handle it. Also, if it's possible, try not to drive down I-95 with a carcass bound to the top of your wood-grain Suburban...its head bobbing at each bump and looking at me... that really freaks me out too. Thank you for your consideration.

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