GARY’S 3rd DEER

/ janpriddyoregon

This is not a sad story, so bear with me. No one dies in this story. A car is injured, but we’re over that.

My husband has an unfortunate relationship, or anyway some unfortunate experiences with wild animals. He worked at Woodland Park Zoo and got on well with the wolf and the birds, but did suffer an injury from a frightened elephant that resulted in surgery many years later. He was not the one who frightened the elephant and he never blamed the elephant for his injury. He loves animals. There was also the time he pulled over to the side of the road because of the herd of elk, and while he sat in our nearly-new Honda wagon on the shoulder the elk ran into the car. The elk were fine, but the car almost died.

Ruby a couple years before she announced: “I’m not a baby, I’m a little girl” when she was three.

But today’s story is about the deer.

Three times Gary has been hit by deer while driving. Like the time with the elephant or the elk, Gary wasn’t doing anything special, was driving within the speed limit and paying attention. Deer came from “nowhere” and bounded off after the bump. The first and second time deer ran into his moving car and ran on. The most recent was half-grown deer. He braked hard, and nearly missed the animal passing in front of him. We pulled over, but I had already seen the deer bound right off into the brush. The only mark on the car was a few deer hairs. We stood and looked where the deer had been and there was no trace. That was last week. So three times the deer survived.

The wind was up and then down today. We expected rain and it came. Then the sky cleared to blue, the ocean the color of my husband’s eyes, the sand wet and reflective of ocean and sky, clouds, and birds that fly.

This morning I crossed the doe prints in front of our house. I ran three miles on sand. Who knew I would still be running when I will be 69 next week. A raven called to me halfway through my run and then flew down to get a closer look at me. “Pretty bird,” I told her, but she already knew that. There was an osprey fishing as we walked home. The sky was magnificent. We each picked up agates. At home we had stewed fruit and yogurt for breakfast, then we took a nap and ate leftovers for lunch.

After my run the sky cleared and everything was blue.

Lucky again.

We are all fine here: Gary and me and that little deer maybe still heading east.

It has not been such an eventful day and that is how luck goes. You might not credit it, but lucky doesn’t need to be anything special. It might even work the other way. “May you live in interesting times” goes the proverb. It’s a curse. I get that.

Lucky.

I don’t even know when Gary did this. It’s early and sweet. I only found it on my camera when I went to upload this morning’s sky. Whenever we see red petals on the sand, we know there’s been a wedding. I am wedded.

10 thoughts on “GARY’S 3rd DEER”

  1. Jeff almost got hit by a deer when we were riding bikes on the bike trail out of Wallace, Idaho. I heard rustling in the woods to the left of us and a juvenile deer broke through and dashed right in front of Jeff! If he had not braked it would have knocked him over. In seconds, what we assume was mother deer came bounding across after. We stopped for about 5 minutes to process the event. We were warned about moose and bears but didn’t think about deer.

    Once while out riding with a group of cyclists out in Sultan I was charged by a deer. I guess she didn’t like my pink bike! She stopped when other riders came up behind me. As you like to say we lived to tell about it.

    The heart in the sand is very sweet and Ruby’s words too!

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    • There is that poem by William Stafford, “Traveling Through the Dark,” about a dead deer by the side of the road in Oregon. I once helped a German man who was looking for it because I knew the title, knew the poem. When I was teaching, all my students had stories about near misses with deer.

      A five-point buck jumped over the hood of the car on our way home from the ER with Mom, our third visit of four that week. It was dark and wet and in the curves north of our home. We laughed in relief when it happened and still do. We lived. Lucky.

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  2. If you come across a dead deer on the beach, go through it’s pockets for loose change—who knows you might find a buck or so —ha ha— —-butt seriously flocks and I’m not being sheepish or anything if ewe know what I mean—where was I ? Oh yeah: HAPPY BIRTHDATE JAN—only 69 and pure as the shiven snow—I remember when I was 69 and nothing happened. I hope you have a boring birthday ’cause we all need a little rest—I will buy me something for your birthday so don’t worry—love, gary

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  4. Happy birthday Jan! When is your birthday? I hope you have something fun planned for that day. A deer ran in front of my car on Hwy 26 two years ago when I was going 55 mph. It had been very rainy for a week and that morning it was bright sun and this young deer was an equivalent to a teenager in youth. It was running top speed and unfortunately it did not survive. I still think of that sweet deer to this day.

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