Roadkill Review

We almost hit an elk on our wedding night. I screamed and wide-eyed, I asked my husband "What is that?" I knew it wasn't a deer: the thing was MASSIVE. I spent the next two years paralyzed with fear every time we drove anywhere on our deer-infested highways. I just knew that if the icy roads didn't kill us, one of those road signs/elk/mail boxes/deer/tumbleweeds/antelope would get us for sure. I cried "Deer!" too many deerless times and after awhile, my husband quit braking to my warnings.

We have been surrounded by roads with deer warning signs our whole married life, but we have never hit a deer. Well, except that time we were on a tour bus that hit a deer, but that is kind of like a minivan hitting a jackrabbit, so it is probably not worth mentioning. Twice we saw other people hit deer on the road. Once after a visit to our house, three relatives in a pick-up truck hit a deer. The truck was knocked backwards down a steep hill, but thankfully our relatives were not harmed.

We have driven through herds of elk or deer (often on icy roads). There were a few times I thought a collision with one or more of them was eminent, but my dependable driver always got us through safely. I began to relax. I gained the ability to wait until I was sure I was seeing an animal before I called out a warning to my husband.

I just have to insert here a sentence about my sister. She was driving down a country road one night when several rabbits, later referred to as the suicide bunnies, jumped in front of her car, one right after the other.

One black midsummer night, we drove down an unfamiliar road, with our first baby and two cousins in the back seat. My husband slowed to watch out for deer. Almost as if it had been beamed there in an instant, the biggest, blackest cow I have ever seen stood in the middle of our lane. With the help of his lightening-speed reflexes, my husband hit the brakes, but it was obvious that we would not be able to stop in time. Naturally, I screamed with the teenage girls, although I still don't remember hearing the screams. I also put my hands up in a feeble attempt to block myself from the elephant-sized cow in our path.

It happened so fast. (Isn't that what they always say?) The next thing I knew, all I could see was white.

"Am I dead?" I asked myself silently. "What do I do now?"

Then I realized there was an air bag in my face. I moved it away and asked my husband if he was okay but he didn't answer me. It was so dark. I called his name in a panic. Then he said with an urgency I don't think I have heard since, "GET OUT OF THE CAR!" We could smell smoke. I clawed myself out of the passenger side of the car so I could get my baby out of the seat right behind me.

By the time I was out of my door, my husband was already pulling my daughter's carseat out of the back. He had opened his door, climbed out, sprinted around the back of the car, opened my daughter's door, and pulled her carseat out with the speed of Superman, I do not exaggerate.

My husband's parents came upon our stopped car. My father-in-law said he saw us bailing out of the car and wondered if we were all sick, which makes me laugh now when I think about it.

We took inventory of ourselves: my husband's arm was scratched from the windshield glass, I had a bloody nose (I later realized that when I put my hand up, the air bag caused me to punch myself in the nose) and a bruised arm, but other than that we were all just a little shaken up. And the cow...I can still remember exactly how it sounded bellowing somewhere in the dark...

Someone came by who knew the owners of the cows, so we called to tell them what had happened. We hoped they would come and tend to the most likely dying cow. The five of us rode home with family, friends, and strangers. The man who returned me to my in-laws' house accidentally locked himself out of his truck and had to wait an hour for his sister to bring him another set of keys. Then he still had another hour drive to get home. My husband waited at the ER until two in the morning, only to be told that if there was glass in his arm, it would work its way out on its own. That information cost $250. The car, which we loved so much it was like a pet to us, was completely totaled and we only carried liability insurance on it.

Midsummer night seemed unlucky that year, if you are one to look on the dark side. (Don't do it...don't go to the dark side!) But since I am not, let me tell you I believe we were watched over and protected. We were already slowing down when we saw the cow. Those girls in our backseat did not have seat belts on (if I had known, I would have told them to buckle up!), but they were not harmed at all. The car was not on fire, we were only smelling the air bag propellant. It turned out that a family member was able to fix the car eventually and use it for his family, and we were able to get the same kind of car for us.

I know that night was unlucky for the cow, though. Rest in peace, Holy Cow. So sorry!