Deer Season everywhere pretty much starts the middle of November. There are strict dates on when you can hunt deer with a bow, firearms, muzzle loaders, light sabers, the power of your mind. But when is sports car season for deers? I found nothing on the guidelines for taking out a deer with an Infiniti G37. Fortunately, since I failed to bag my fawn-faced hood ornament, there is, at least, no fear of a poaching fine. An insurance claim, however, is another story.
Honestly, I’m not sure if I hit Bambi or if Bambi ran into me. I was making a run to the local, small airport at the freezing cold butt crack of dawn and driving along a dark rural road, not even doing the speed limit which is nearly unheard of for me. When out of the corn field alongside the road jumps Bambi and his mother! Geez, can we not get reflectors tagged on these animals?!
I stood on the brakes. Bambi stood on the hooves. Momma deer leaped on across to safety and Bambi hit reverse. But my fender hit his fender and he took off my passenger side mirror. He ran off; I drove off. I pooped my pants; he pooped in the woods. We’ll both likely be fine. The car can be fixed.
So like a good neighbor, State Farm is there. Again. I think my long-suffering agent cringes every time my number comes up on the caller ID at his office. As long as the deer doesn’t file a claim against my policy, my deductible isn’t too bad. Not that Bambi would have much trouble finding me since my license plate is probably imprinted on his butt. And if he pursues it, I’ll happily pay his vet bills and he can pay for the overpriced body shop that works only on specialty imports.
Meanwhile, I’ll put the car in the shop, cruise around in a conservative, rental sedan with added safety features, and stock up on those worthless whistle things that are supposed to scare animals away from your car (I already know the research says they don’t work). Hopefully, though, this is will be the last time the local wildlife and I go antler to engine. Otherwise, I’ll have to see if there’s an after-market cattle guard for my little hot rod.