Thump
It’s been a tough year, and today was another tough day. This island is only 35 miles long, yet people still like to use their cars and trucks to do 60+ miles an hour, just to arrive somewhere one or two minutes earlier.
Last week Mylin and I were looking east for the bus when a white compact car came speeding past.
Then came the THUMP, as a three point buck, antlers in velvet, leapt from the side of the road and hit the driver’s side of the car
Both of our heads turned simultaneously to see the Shika deer launch 15 feet across the other lane to the side of the road, to land and never move again.
The car continued down the road, stopping for a few minutes a couple hundred yards later, no doubt to take a few deep breaths, or perhaps to call their car insurance company, then slowly continued on their way.
Our deer hunting neighbor came out of his driveway, I yelled ”Sharpen your knife” to him, but he turned and walked home.
Mylin and I walked to the deer, It was barely alive. Mylin got out his knife and prepared to slit its’ throat. I said “Don’t bother, it’s almost gone”. I touched its head, said “ I’m sorry” to its’ departing spirit.
As we walked back to the bus stop, Mylin noted the parallel marks on the road left by its hooves as they dragged a few feet before it launched.
I picked up the white plastic rear view mirror housing and hung it on a tree limb. A minute later a van drove by with the passenger window open. This time I yelled “ Fresh kill deer meat ” and we both pointed.
It slowed, then pulled over. The bus came, and when we returned from town, the deer was gone and somewhere families were preparing venison for dinner and the freezer. Only a dent in the grass remained.
The driver was lucky. Another split second and it would have impacted the windshield directly in front of the steering wheel.
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Instead, it slid up fender and the edge of the windshield, removing a few pieces of chrome plastic and the white side mirror on its’ final jump.
A couple days later, this scene was repeated a few miles down the road. I heard, (unconfirmed), that the driver went through the windshield, surviveing with minor injuries.
Simultaneously the cars’ tire ripped off,the steel rim hitting the road. Sparks flew and apparently a gas line was punctured, resulting in the car burning to a crisp as it rolled to a stop on the other side of the road from the dazed driver. Twice lucky that one. Perhaps he won’t speed so readily again… when he gets a new car.
That was last week. This week I was packing for the bus when I noticed my two dogs were no longer sitting behind me. I immediately got up and went looking for them when I heard the thump.
That familiar, awful, thump once again. My heart skipped a beat.
Then I saw Kydy prone on the centerline, his mother Goodoggy still running full speed, half-way to me.
I told her “Go home” sternly, and as she did, I walked out to pick up Kydys’ inert body and carried him home.
In the past I’ve woven a coconut funeral basket for my cats who’ve died.
Kydy was a full grown 9 month old, too big for one of my baskets, so I dug a grave in the soft dirt of the den he’d hollowed out at his end of the dog run. I laid him down with his favorite toys: a plastic gallon milk jug, my coffee cup and my new coconut hat on his head.
I placed a coconut rose-heart on his chest.
Aloha nui loa my friend, Mahalo nui loa for your life,
You were my first puppy.
p.s…
SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Thank you.
