Stag. Night.


The deer was blameless, although he showed poor judgement in deciding to cross the road in the dark, in the face of two streams of traffic.

I was driving.

“DEER!!!” yelled Mrs R as she glimpsed the inconsiderate animal silhouetted against the oncoming headlights.

“Where?” I enquired thoughtfully. “Oh, just there…” I realised a millisecond before the THUMP TINKLE as the round-eyed, shy, forest fauna expensively demolished the deliberately deforming black plastic components at the front of the car and plunged a wayward hoof into the eye-wateringly costly air-conditioning radiator strategically placed in the most exposed position behind the crumple-crack-shatter zone. In slow motion I saw the shiny VW logo spin off into the air and disappear into the darkness.

I pulled over to inspect the damage. Both headlights were still working and nothing was dripping. Small tufts of deer pelt adhered to the remains of the front grille.

We drove home. In the back seat my mother-in-law wisely said nothing.


6 Responses to “Stag. Night.”

  1. 1 Sarah

    You were lucky. I’ve seen a deer take out a coach on the A93 near Braemar

  2. 3 Andy, at Aviva Perth

    Venison for tea?

  3. 5 Wayne

    My sister once hit a deer on the way to work. Whilst she was inspecting the damage to her car a bloke in a golf buggy appeared over the horizon, picked up the deer and drove off without saying a word or acknowledging she was even there!

  4. Was talking to Jas about the harrowing drive over Kangaroo Island trying to dodge every single possum/wallaby/kangaroo ever to exist. She didn’t remember it at all. If you’d been about more careful/precise/let a woman drive we could have had kangaroo steak, kangaroo bolognaise, kangaroo wellington, kangaroo and chips, kangaroo pasties…but no.

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