My husband and I have a fairly safe driving ritual when we go somewhere together. He drives, I don’t. He drives, and I am usually on the computer trying to catch up with reading and commenting.
My feet are usually propped on the dash. My computer at the right angle so I can see the screen, and yet see the road by just raising my eyes. He may be talking with me. Or the music may be playing. It’s a comfortable routine. And there is a familiarity to it. You sit next to someone for what adds up to years in a vehicle and you sense the changes or nuances that are occurring next to you. Subtle or glaring…you know when something is happening.
A week doesn’t go by where we don’t spend at the least, a few hours driving hither and yon. You have no idea how often we have to go yon.
We were settled in and driving along. I felt a shift in the atmosphere. I looked up and over to husband’s driving. He was checking mirrors and as I looked forward he was swiftly pulling to the left. Across the middle line. There, ahead, was a very large and off white dog. I thought it was a dog. Husband used to teach driver’s education. The rule of thumb is you are not supposed to swerve for animals. Because that can cause an accident of different proportions than hitting an animal. I don’t know about you but I don’t know many people who can purposefully plow in to an animal if they can help it. Neither of us could do it. In a situation between hit a car or person, I will sadly sacrifice the animal. And feel horrible about it. But if it can be avoided, I’m not hitting an animal.
Neither was he this day.
With nothing behind us and nothing coming towards us he swerved to avoid hitting the not so bright animal sitting comfortably and a little too cozily in the middle of the road.
From the way it was sitting we knew it wasn’t dead. But it was having NO reaction to us as we whizzed by.
It was bizarre.
It was large enough to do damage to a vehicle if it was hit.
Even if it was only a stuffed animal.