I immediately pulled on to the shoulder and turned around to see if I could see the deer. The only thing I could see was a cartoon-esque cloud of fur between the two lanes. I called 911 to report the hit. The wife and I just came from living for two years in Monterey, CA and in that county, it's illegal to not report hitting an animal on the road so I decided to err on the side of caution and report it. The 911 operator asked me if the deer was dead and I told her I couldn't see it anywhere and then she asked if I was okay and if I needed an ambulance. I was fine. I was surrounded by 4,000 pounds of American steel.
The 911 operator said she couldn't do much if I was okay and if the deer was gone and she said to call back if I needed a LEO to take a report for damage to my car.
I pulled further on to the shoulder because the stretch of highway the deer decided to commit suicide was a downward incline so people coming just over the top of the hill and gaining speed as they're coming down the hill toward me, might not have much time to react (kinda like me and some dumb deer). So I pulled over further and got out to look and this is what I saw:
Horrible but not the worst I've seen a deer do to a car.
So I popped my trunk and got out the road flares to warn other motorists that I'm sitting on the shoulder.
I got back in my car and called 911 again and told them I need a LEO so she dispatched one to me.
He got there pretty quick since the morning rush was pretty much over. As he was approaching me, the first thing I did was get out my driver's license and CHL and showed them both to him.
He asked, "Is there a gun in the car?" I said, "No, sir. It's on my person." He said, "Okay, that's fine."
He took a look at the damage, asked if I needed a wrecker and I pointed out the giant puddle of coolant under my car and said, "I think the deer cracked the radiator." He said, "Hmm... Yeah, looks like it." So he radioed for the fire department to come clean up my puddle and requested a wrecker to come tow my poor car back to Goodfellow Air Force Base, where I live.
While we were standing around, the cop decided to make small talk and ask me what I carry and I said, "Bersa Thunder 9." He asked, "What is that? Some kind of 7 or 8 shot?" I said, "No, sir. 17+1. Extra mag on my other hip" He said, "17?!" in surprise. I said, "Yes, sir." He looked at me for a second and said, "Well, good job!" If you're gonna do something, do it right. I carry 35 rounds on me every time I leave the house.
He asked me where I hit the deer and I said, "Right about where you're parked." So he went to go look for it after the fire department got there and he came back and said, "Yup, it didn't make it but two steps before it died."
Man, I tell you. By the time I saw that deer, it wasn't but six inches from my car. All in half a second, I let off the gas, held the wheel straight and prayed the shortest prayer of my life, "God, save me!" Then, BAM! After taking a look at everything when I got home, aside from the body work, the only thing that needs replacing is the headlight. The radiator is okay and the overflow reservoir is okay, too. The airbags didn't go off, I didn't hurt my neck or back in the impact. Either my grandpa was in the car with me or God sent an angel, or God sent my grandpa, however you wanna look at it but not a scratch on me.
Needless to say, I'm gonna go visit the Big Guy on Sunday to say thanks, ya know?
