I purchased my MG in the spring of 2000, with about 37000 miles on the odometer. Since then, I’ve driven it about 54000 miles in 15 years. Those years have included many fond memories—a trip to California along the coast, a trip home to a class reunion that involved the jewels of Washington’s highway system, a memorable sun-burned April trip into northeastern Oregon, and others.

During those 15 years, there have been close encounters with deer, but only one where it was really close. That event was a draw—the car lost a mirror, and the deer was probably pretty bruised, but neither party got seriously hurt.

The streak of no harm to either side ended today. As I was driving along Green Hollow Road, a fawn jumped out in front of me. I was unable to stop in time and hit it at about 45 mph, sending it flying. I was able to slow down so that it landed in the road in front of me instead of on the car, but the damage to the fawn was too great. I am not a person that cares for guns, but I would have been happy to have had one on me today. Fortunately, it didn’t suffer for long.

The car and I came away without a scratch to show for it—just the lingering smell of burnt rubber and the wild rush of adrenaline.