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The Day the Paralyzed Deer Kicked My Ass
By Michael W. Curry
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
Rated "PG" by the Author.
I'm just a guy on my way to work... Little did I know that I was about to get my ass kicked by a paralyzed deer!
It was a day like any other day. There were no indicators that today was a day when I would get my ass kicked by a paralyzed deer. Had I known, I would not have gone to school and taught class.
My routine consists of waking up at 7:00 and spending eight minutes in the shower. After that, I take another five minutes to throw on some clothes... followed by the vigerous brushing of hair and teeth. It's a simple routine. I am a simple man! My wife might say, "Simpleton" instead or "simple-minded"... but she's not a morning person.
The more painful part of my morning routine is spending the next half hour trying to convince my two teenaged daughters that I really do have a set time that I am supposed to arrive at work. This information goes right over their heads because they are too busy occupying their bathroom (and mine!) to listen to such trivial information that has nothing to do with their ever-changing, conform or die, fragile, cosmetic, materialistic world of trend and fashion.
When I finally get them into the car, I like to remind them to make sure they have their backpacks, PE clothes, Sports duffle, Lunches and homework. Then I spend another five minutes waiting for them to return to the car with all of the above fore-mentioned items. I figure school... homework... study... the whole reason we are going to school... etc... We should probably have that stuff! But that's just me. Then I drive us to school where they attend and I teach and we arrive late every day. That's my morning. Predictable. Getting my ass kicked by a deer was the last thing that I thought might happen to me that day.
It takes me ten minutes to drive to the high school where I teach. Same road. Same route. Same sights. I drive along the apple orchards and check the progress of the blossoms or fruit that fill the orchards in our little slice of Washington state. I cross the bridge over the Columbia River and watch the Great Grey Herons standing tall in the water as they fish by the ruins of the old bridge. Right before I cross the railroad tracks, I see the Poplar trees congregating along the banks of the river. With the morning sun shining through them, they look like enormous green candles aflame. You should see them in the Fall. It's inspiring! Despite the hectic mornings spent getting ready for work with my lovely daughters, the short drive along the river always seems to scrape away those trivial events that seemed so enormous at the time.
After crossing the bridge, I make a thousand foot zig zag climb up the hill along the cliffs where I am greeted by apple packing sheds on either side... guiding my way to my sleepy little seasonal tourist town where our high school rests nestled under the Butte. If you would have told me, "Hey! A meteor could strike you at this very moment!" I might've thought about it and said... "You know... You could be right. I really doubt it... But I'll keep an eye out just the same! Thanks." But if you would've said, "Hey! You better watch out. Today could be the day a deer kicks your ass!", I would have looked at you and smuggly said, "Well... hmmmmm... thank you for that! Have you been out of the hospital long? How's that head injury coming along you friggin psycho?" It just doesn't compute. It wouldn't register. Why should it? Does stuff like this happen to every day people on any given day? I don't think it does. Or at least... it shouldn't!
Anywah... on this day, as we headed up the hill, I saw a pick-up truck parked along the cliffs and an elderly lady frantically waving at me to pull over. I was worried about a wreck but I couldn't see any other cars around. I was also worried about her standing under those cliffs. We have rock slides at all times of the year and that was not the safe place to be no matter how pretty those rocks would look in someone's garden on the West side. I pulled over and got out. As I approached her, I noticed a huge deer on the ground near her. It was kicking and thrashing about in distress... It's back legs were not moving... it's back obviously broken.
"Help me!", she cried. Help you what? I'm thinking. It's the deer that needs help and there's nothing that can be done in that situation but to call the Animal Control or put it out of it's misery. This lady was obviously distraught and didn't realize what kind of danger she was in. "Back away from that deer maam!" I yelled. "He's hurt!"
"I know he's hurt! You simpleton! I want YOU to put him into the back of my truck so I can take him to the vet!" she spat in my direction.
"Uh..." I said... blinking slowly.
"Hurry! He's suffering!" she wailed... bursting into very loud tears. She reached down through the antlers and tried to pet it's head. The deer immediately started kicking in the air with it's front legs, trying to place it's rockhard hooves through her skull into the squishy part. I ran over and yanked her back as the hooves just missed her face by a centimete with a Whoosh Whoosh! I thought she would be happy that I had saved her life but she was not.
"Let me go idiot! I'm trying to calm it down! Can't you see he's suffering?!?" She struggled from my grasp and pointed at the deer as if I hadn't noticed it.
"Yes! I can see the hurt deer maam!... but he's gonna kill you if you get too close and that won't help him or you one bit. Back away please maam!" I tried nudging her to a safer distance but she would have none of that.
Hands placed firmly on hips, she pointed to me just like my mom did when she was going to have her way and then pointed to the struggling deer. "Put him in the back of my truck so I can take him to the vet or I will do it myself!"
To me... this translated to, "You will die in an attempt to save this unsavable deer or I will die trying to do the very same thing and it will all be your fault!"
So... before she could go in for some more soothing pets to it's murderous brow full of stupid human impalers, I took off my nice XXL leather jacket from the Walmart Stout and Husky section and threw it over it's head to calm it down. At least it wouldn't be able to aim at my head. She promised she would stay put if I tried to put the deer in her truck. The coat seemed to do the trick and the deer lay still panting. Encouraged by this, I calmly put my arms around its neck and proceeded to get my ass kicked by a deer with a broken back.
I won't go into too many ugly details. Suffice it to say that the deer was WAY heavier than it looked and three times stronger than I ever was... even when compared to my high school defensive tackle 1st string football days. If deer were capable of knowing hidden forest martial arts techniques, this one was a blackbelt assassin deer. I was very surprised that despite a broken spine and usless back legs, it had no problem hurling me into the air with it's front legs and sharp antlers. It's hooves were as hard as obsidian and it's aim was perfect. If not for my own Ninja-like reflexes taught to me by middleschoolers, It would've been me laying there begging the lady to take me to the vet. As the paralyzed deer threw me around like a rag doll among the sharp, broken rocks, (Feel free to add Chinese B movie karate sound effects here) I could hear the lady screaming at me like a banshee.
"Stop it! You're hurting him!" she cried.
"He can't hear you lady!", I yelled back at her. "He doesn't understand you!"
"I'm talking to you you big, dumb man!" she screamed! "Quit being so rough with him! He can't even defend himself!" ...to which she collapsed into a sobbing heap while I dragged myself out from under the deer's Drunken Monkey style Kung Forest Fu hooves of death.
Thankfully, as I lay gasping and bleeding on the rocks, a trucker in an 18 wheeler pulled over and gave me a hand. After he finished applauding and laughing hysterically, he helped me up. He let me know how thankful he was for the show by slapping my on my cracked ribs. Apparently, driving can be so monotonous... and he was glad for the distraction. As I explained the situation to him, ("This crazy lady wants me to put this damn deer with a broken back into the back of her truck so she can take it to the doctor!") she glared at the trucker and me with tear-filled eyes.
"Well did you tell her you can't save a deer that's hurt like this?!" laughed the truck driver.
I nodded my head so vigerously and it made me dizzy. Must be the blood loss. He laughed even harder.
"BOTH OF YOU ARE JUST HEARTLESS BRUTES!" she cried, glaring at the both of us.
In the meantime... the deer managed to wiggle it's way out from under my coat and started thrashing again. Now that it could see again, it had much better aim with those hooves and she was the nearest target. The lady uttered a maternal cry and rushed back towards the deer. When the truck driver tackled her, I retrieved the remnants of my coat and ran back to my car and took off. Let the trucker deal with her.
I managed to get my daughters to stop arguing over the only brush in the car (I don't think they even realized we had stopped!) and find the first aid kit. I only needed about 50 bandages and there wasn't near as much blood loss as I had suspected. Apparently, head wounds bleed profusely even if the damage is minimal. When I got to school, the secretary stared at me suspiciously when I asked her to use the phone. "Is it a test day or something?" she asked curiously as she reached for the bodily fluids cleaning kit. I must've looked quite the sight with all the blood on my face and wearing a very hairy jacket. I called the State Patrol and informed them of the location of a psycho deer-loving lady wrestling with truck driver with an eye patch near a damaged deer along the side of the road where the rocks always fall on the Canadians RV's trying to find their way to the casino.
In a building full of creative and mischievious students, I was glad they couldn't trace the call to me!
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