My wife, the deer slayer
by Rick Watson
Nov 25, 2012 | 1668 views | 0 0 comments | 14 14 recommendations | email to a friend | print
Rick Watson
Rick Watson
I’ve decided on at least one Christmas gift for Jilda this year. I’m looking for a car tag that says “DEER SLAYER.”

She’s worked at Bradford Health Services in Warrior for seven years, and during her tenure there, she’s hit six deer.

After the first deer, her friend and co-worker Fred gave her two deer whistles that mount below the bumper.

The idea is that as the Volvo is whizzing along on backroads, the deer whistles warn deer of impending calamity.

I’m convinced that the whistle resemble some type of Odocoileus virginianus mating call because she’s hit more and more deer.

I told her last spring when she bagged a young buck not far from our house that the game warden would issue her a citation for taking a deer out of season.

She always gets really upset and she said some unkind things about me between the snubs and sniffles.

Our nephew Haven is a deer hunter who spends a fortune on equipment like tree stands, camouflage and ammunition, and I think Jilda’s bagged more deer than he has, and she’s never looked down the shiny blue-gray barrel of a gun.

I suggested to him that he should get a deer whistle and buy clothes the color of Ingrid, Jilda’s Volvo. I think he’s a little touchy about the situation and takes a dim view of my suggestion because he quickly changes the subject each time I bring it up.

Fast forward to about three weeks ago. I went to Warrior with my niece Samantha because she was having issues with her new car and wanted me to go along for moral support. I thought she’d be able to take me back home, but as it turns out, I had to call Jilda and ask her to come fetch me.

Normally, it takes about 20 minutes to get from our house in Empire to Warrior, but after about 30 minutes, still no Jilda.

I was about to call her on her cell when my phone rang. She was almost hysterical.

As she was heading down the hill before you get to the Warrior Jasper road, a buck running at full speed broadsided her in the passenger door.

She said the impact was so violent that it threw her into the oncoming lane. Fortunately there was no traffic coming. When she arrived to pick me up, the passenger side of the car looked as if it had been hit by a bus.

The impact had caved the door in and ripped the chrome off the side. The door wouldn’t open and the window wouldn’t roll down.

She said the deer rolled over the trunk of her car and scurried off into the woods as if it had stumped his toe on a stone.

We took the car to Ellis Automotive and our buddies down there had a good-natured laugh at Jilda’s expense.

I’m not sure what the tab was for repairs, but it involved ordering parts for a Volvo that was manufactured when Clinton was in the White House.

I’m guessing the insurance company would love to slip some kind of deer-clause in our insurance policy but so far so good.

I decided to remove the deer whistles, just in case.