Tex is a rootin’ tootin’ cowboy. So it stands to reason that some of the men he knows are too, which was how I spent part of last night discussing the manners of hitting animals with your car. The conversation went something like this.

Tex “Around here, people will hit an average of two and a half deer in their life.”

Unwashed “What? Tell me you’re joking” I look frantically at Tex waiting for him to smile because he’s pulling my city slicker leg. When that doesn’t work, I turn to his friend Brayden*. “Tell me he’s joking” Brayden shrugs.

Tex “I made up the number, but it’s super common, although sometimes the deer will hit you. Unwashed, you drive so slow, that’s what will happen.”

Brayden helpfully chimes in “Don’t worry, they’ll just dent the door panels all to hell so they won’t open and you’ll have to get in from the opposite side of the car.”

They said this in the same manner that one would describe the process of painting a house, as if it was normal.

Tex “Why my Dad had a deer hit him in November. Super common, nothing to worry about.”

I sat there for a minute pondering this new information.  Then I turned to Brayden.

Unwashed “Is the etiquette to remove the deer from the road, or do you leave it there?”

Brayden “You move it” he answers, as naturally as one would of the question were about whether people wear pants or just overly long ponchos to work.

Unwashed “So let’s say I’m struggling to move a hundred pound deer from the road, will people stop and help me?”

Tex and Brayden “Whoa whoa whoa”

Tex “Deer don’t weigh a hundred pounds, that’s like the size of a dog, deer are waaaaaay bigger.”

For the record readers, it never occurred to me to estimate the poundage of deer, because the only times I’ve seen them are in a zoo “Oooh look deer!” and in a park “Ooooh look deer!”

Brayden “I wouldn’t worry about moving a three hundred pound deer off the road, the majority of the time the force of the impact moves most of the animal into the ditch.”

I may have gagged a little into my wine, so Tex and Brayden quickly changed the subject to another honored pastime of theirs- shooting milk at cats.

Tex “So you’re sitting there, pulling on the teats and then you start spraying the cats”

Unwashed “Is it like when you grab the super soaker and spray the cat for chewing the plants in the garden?”

Brayden adds kindly “Sort of. Also why are you spraying cats for being in the garden? That’s their spot.”

To clear up the confusion Tex adds “Cats love milk straight from the teat and will jump and contort themselves to get it.”

Unwashed “Ahhhh” all the while thinking that it’s nothing like having three super soakers lying around to keep the cats from mowing down on the azaleas as Tex and Brayden retell their childhood memories of groups of strays doing flips for dairy products

*Names have been changed to protect the identities of those who I call to move heavy road kill in the dead of night. It seems I need to bank my good karma in these here parts.