The Wrath of Bambi

For years I have pored over sheriff's dispatch logs and noted numerous car vs. deer accidents. How much damage could a deer do anyway, seemed to be my line of thinking as I scrolled through the previous evening's calls. That was until Bambi did the Lambeau leap into my windshield last spring as I was driving through the Horicon Marsh.

I was already feeling bad about hitting a chipmunk that had darted out in front of me on Mill Pond Road when I entered the five-mile stretch on Highway 49 cutting through the north end of the Horicon Marsh. Locking on my cruise control, I glanced at the roadkill toll board that had posted the latest number of wildlife kills. I always cringe when I see squished turtles, geese and other critters that didn't make it across the highway, so I normally drive with extra caution through this area.

But for some reason I happened to glance toward Mischeler's Berry farm and wondered why no one was out picking strawberries. I didn't ponder this thought long as a brown body impacted my windshield, flew over the top of my car and lay lifeless in the ditch behind me. Later my son would tell his young son that grandma had killed Bambi.

Within seconds three men in pickup trucks stopped to see if I was ok. I wondered at their concern until I took a good look at my car and gave thanks that the safety glass had held. In the second breath, the good samaritans asked what I was going to do with that big deer laying in the ditch (word to single women...if you are thinking of hitting a deer as a way to pick up concerned, sensitive men...forget it. They've got venison on their minds).

When I started off for work that morning I had a nice, dependable car that was totally paid for. Minutes later I would be standing on the side of the road with a totaled car, dead deer and thoughts of car shopping and auto loans circling in my head (not to mention being the reason for the latest entry on the roadkill scoreboard).

Thinking of the headaches that ensued in the following weeks I have nothing but sympathy for the folks that collide with the fleet-footed creatures. Although it was a major annoyance and expense, I was lucky to walk away unscathed; some people don't. My word of advice: be on guard for moving deer no matter what time of year. That way you'll avoid the title of "Deerslayer" and "Bambi Killer".