Friday, September 3, 2010

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage, Part II, in which I scream like a little girl.

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage, Part I

I grabbed my purse and headed out of our subdivision. If you turn left out of our sub, you get to the highway very quickly, but if you turn right, there is nothing but fields and cow pastures for six miles until you hit the road that leads to Publix. This is a very pleasant drive during the daytime. Having grown up in the middle of a big city myself, I've always enjoyed it. But I'd never driven it at nighttime before. It suddenly seemed like a long, dark, lonely road. There are no lights on this road, so I used my highbeams. I was cruising along at about 45 mph (a conservative speed for this road) when I turned off my brights momentarily so as not to blind an approaching vehicle. When I switched them back on, I was greeted by the suddenly illuminated vision of the black hindquarters of a large animal looming in front of me. This was barely even noted before I collided with the spectre-like rear end.

I scream as I have never screamed before. I am aware of being pelted with what I imagine must be the gory remains of the cow. I pull over to the side of the road and scream/sob with horror and loathing. There is something in my mouth. I realize it is glass. Only then do I see that my driver's side window is broken and lying in pieces all over my lap. I am grateful that it is only glass, and not bovine remains. I am too shaky and freaked out to find my phone and call Jessie, and I now feel very exposed, sitting alone on the side of a dark, abandoned road with no window. I cannot bring myself to get out of the truck and check on the condition of the cow. The prospects of surveying my recent slaughter, or encountering a staggering, undead cow are equally horrific to me. So I do the only thing that I can do in the current state of cowardice that I have been reduced to. I continue on. I can't turn around and go home, because then I might see it.

I am relieved that the truck's driving abilities don't seem to be at all affected by the collision, and start wondering what kind of damage it does have. Another chunk of the window breaks off and falls in my lap every few minutes, causing me to jump every time. I finally reach the parking lot of Publix, where I first call the police to inform them that they may need to euthanize a cow, then I call Jessie. He answers. "Are you there yet?" "Yes." I search for words. "Well, the good news is that I'm alive." Immediate concern fills his voice. "Did you hit something" (he told me later he was thinking maybe an armadillo, or a wild pig at worst). "Yes. A cow." "A WHAT??!" "Are you sure you're ok?" I glance over myself. "Well, I'm bleeding. But only because there is glass in my arm." After assuring him that it is inconsequential, I get out and observe the damage to the truck. Apparently I hit the cow with my driver's side headlight, (now broken) which caused it to spin around, dent the front fender, and hit my rear-view mirror, which in turn forcibly crashed through my window.

By this time Publix has already closed and I have nothing left to do but to head home, the other way.

To Be Continued.

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage, Part I

2 comments:

Bobbie - Clumsy Crafter said...

somehow I missed this post and I've been wondering for days. no joke. I can't wait for part three. Did you see the dead cow?

Elizabeth said...

Yikes! What a horrible evening! I had to back track a little...read Part 2 first. So glad you're ok!! I haven't been up on my posting lately, but hope you saw we're having a boy. Exciting times here between new babies and moving across the country!