Bambi Alert Level - Orange

I am personally advocating for a Bambi alert warning. Seriously. The DHS issues terrorism threat levels; news stations issue alerts for pollen counts and UVA/UVB levels, weather forecasters alert for tropical storms, hurricanes, flash floods, and tornadoes. And I have been less threatened by all of those things combined than I have by the local deer population in the past week. Studies show that most vehicular accidents occur within five miles of home. Now I know why. It all started this past weekend. Driving home, I turned into my neighborhood and there on the front lawn of a corner home is Bambi, looking all lost and confused. Poor thing. What is it doing in my neighborhood? Bambi didn't bother me, I didn't bother him, we went on our merry ways. In fact, I felt a mild sense of awe from this unusual sighting. Fast forward to Wednesday evening. I'm heading out to Zumba class. I don't want to be late because I'll have to stand in the back where it is harder to follow the dance moves. I'm chugging along Branch Avenue when I see Bambi, far enough in the distance for a controlled slow down, as Bambi leaves a front yard, crosses Branch Avenue, and heads into another front yard. Headed where??? I'll ponder that another day, I don't want to be late for Zumba, remember?

Allow me to put this all in context. I live in a small rural suburb. We have farms and small wooded areas within a couple miles of home. But my immediate neighborhood is a twenty-plus-year-old bedroom community. Surrounded by other bedroom communities, the newest of which is probably fifteen or so years old. So it isn't like we tore up Bambi's forest and left him homeless in the last year or two. We're established. Been here awhile. We've been living in harmony with the local wildlife for quite some time. And honestly, in twenty plus years I've never seen deer in my own neighborhood - until this week.

So tonight. I'm headed out to pick up my daughter from Pizza Hut. On Callowhill I catch movement in my peripheral vision. Before I even have time to react, Bambi is running across the street smack in front of my Honda Odyssey. I slam on the brakes. Bambi passes within a foot of the front of my van, crosses in front of oncoming traffic, and disappears. After I manage to push my stomach back down from its new position in my throat, I continue my journey. That is three times in one week that Bambi has interrupted my travels. A couple miles down the road my heartbeat slows back to its normal rhythm. By the time I arrive at Pizza Hut, I realize that I may be suffering from a mild case of whiplash. Or post traumatic stress syndrome. Or just plain freaking out. You pick. In over thirty years of driving I have never hit an animal. It's a record I'm proud of. And I'd like to keep the winning streak intact if it's all the same to Bambi. So surely a "Bambi Alert" status isn't asking too much - is it?