The Doe

Last Friday, I was driving home from an 8-hour shift in an extremely busy women's clothing store, packed with people looking for a bargain after Thanksgiving. It wasn't as stressful or tiring as I had expected, so I was in rather good spirits on the ride home. Only a mile from my house, a deer, lithe and graceful, was just stepping into the other lane. She observed me with one eye, then darted towards my car. I gasped as her head hit my sideview mirror, snapping it back. There was a large truck behind me, so I wasn't able to stop to see how badly she was hurt. I imagine the impact at 40 miles an hour snapped her neck. The truck stopped, and through my rearview, I saw someone cross in front of the headlights. Perhaps they had fresh meat for dinner that night.
The next morning revealed two knee-dents in my driver's side door. I realized later that if I had taken my foot off the gas, even momentarily, the doe would have landed on my hood and come through the windshield to meet me. If I had sped up, even a little, she may have been gravely injured but not killed, limping around the mountains in pain until she either healed or starved to death. There aren't many predators around here.
Tonight I was nearly to my driveway when another doe's eyes shined red at me from the side of the road. I braced, waiting for a repeat of last week's encounter, but this doe turned tail and dashed up the hill, away from me and my other sideview mirror.
Whew.