Doe! A deer! A big, dead deer!

Monday 5:25 a.m.

A text comes in from my sister-in-law, Amber, who is heading to my house to pick up pumpkin rolls (yes, that's correct - 5:25 a.m. I know it’s weird). Amber is going to stop at Walmart on the way. I return her text with, "Bad news! Walmart doesn't open until 6:00."

Monday 5:39 a.m.

I'm not able to save her the trouble. Amber discovers the hard way that Walmart doesn't open until 6:00. On her way out of the Walmart parking lot, as she reroutes to WinCo, she passes an unnerving sight! A garbage truck has hit a deer on one of the busiest roads in our area. The deer is alive and sitting in the middle of the road. 

Amber is distressed. 

Monday 5:45 a.m.

I am supposed to meet my friend Julie to go walking, but I need to check out this deer! I text Julie that I will be a few minutes late, and I drive to the scene of the accident. About six police cars block the lane, and I see what is literally a deer in headlights!

But not just any deer! It's a three-point buck! It's freaking grown-up Bambi!!!

Monday 6:52 a.m.

I finish my walk with Julie and decide to drive past the deer again. I'm really curious about how the situation is being handled. I'm anticipating that the DWR will be there trying to rescue him. Maybe there will be a deer crane. Maybe a deer ambulance. 

The police are gone, as is the garbage truck. I am disappointed. But wait! What it that in the grass?

Oh no. It's the deer. He's dead. THE DEER IS DEAD!!! And he’s been pulled onto the lawn on the side of the road to await collection. 

Monday 6:55 a.m.

I circle around and pass the deer again. Just to make sure I'm interpreting the situation correctly. 

He's definitely dead.

I have so many questions... who killed the deer and how? Who moved the deer and how? 

I don't think he died on his own. He looked too "alive" when I saw him. 

Monday 7:20 a.m.

I drop Nicky off at school and then drive past the deer two more times. Once to see if it's still there, and once more because, clearly, I'm obsessed.

Monday 7:30 a.m.

I Google "how old is a three-point buck." Google tells me that the points on a deer don't indicate its age - you have to check its teeth. I think about ways to check the dead buck's teeth but decide I don't really want anyone I know to drive past me while I'm snooping at a dead deer carcass. It's bad enough that I've driven past it five times.

But if I check his teeth, I’ll also be close enough to look for a bullet hole. Hmm…

No, Britt. You're not going to do that.  

Monday 8:31 a.m.

Deer is still there.

Monday 9:56 a.m.

Deer is still there.

Monday 11:39 a.m.

Deer is still there.

Monday 12:17 p.m.

I am in the Cafe Rio parking lot when several cops pull in for lunch. I want to ask them about the deer. "Hey guys, do any of you know anything about the deer out there on the road? Did one of you shoot it? How about one of your friends? Did one of your friends shoot it? How'd they move it off the road?"

None of the cops get out of their vehicles while I'm loitering. Should I knock on their car windows? Am I allowed special cop-bugging privileges since my step-dad works for the police department?

I already bugged him to see if he knew what happened to the deer.

He wasn't any help. 

Oh! And the deer is still there, so I text Amber to let her know that she and I might be stealing a carcass by dark of night and burying it.

Monday 2:00 p.m.

I get caught up for a while doing make-up at the high school for the musical. Amber texts me for the latest deer update. I don't have one, but I'll be able to check when I go pick up my girls from school. 

Monday 3:40 p.m.

The deer is gone.