Dear Deer

Dear Deer,

In the evening on New Year's Day, we met on Ligonier Mountain. It happened so fast. Upon hearing the impact, I was alarmed and absolutely unsure as to who or what delivered the boom. My Subaru Outback, courtesy of Spangler Subaru in Johnstown, was still propelling forward, but I was compelled to turn back.

With my high beams on, I spotted you. You had to have been the Jane Doe who collided with my family wagon. Lucky for me, no passengers were on board. Unlucky for you, I ruled you perished on impact. I took a picture of you as evidence of the collision. Standing on that cold mountain, I was really nervous that you were going to move or whimper, only to make this situation more combative. Thankfully, that did not happen.

My Outback, born in 2008, was hurt, yet hopeful. The front bumper was mangled and the passenger side fog light was hanging like a Christmas tree ornament. Considering what had just happened, I found gratitude in this being the only wounds. I did blame you for being an unintelligent beast of the forest. I used more colorful language at the time, but it is time that gave me the ability to reflect. You lost your life. I lost a fog light. I must move on.

By the way, I am not a hunter. I would have been more inclined to pet you than shoot you. One of my uncles thought I should have thrown you on top of the Subaru. Dinner could have been served. I did not have the physical or emotional strength to complete Step 1 in transforming you into jerky. If your species could read, I would question how and why you cross roads, especially at night. Our species has taken "deer in the headlights" and ran with it for generations. Your species continues to run across roads taking chances and fog lights.

"Saving the Subaru" is still a work in progress. Moving on meant I had to forge ahead as a husband and father. I am sure you had a family and would somewhat understand my responsibilities if you were alive. For the past two years, my wife and I have enjoyed a couples massage as our Christmas gift to each other. I needed this experience at The Vault, much like you needed to turn around and find peace on that side of the mountain. You did not and my Subaru vaulted you.

As a man, walking into The Vault is intimidating. Think of it like the road - a place you probably shouldn't be, but you are curious. This downtown Johnstown spot has a lot going on. On this first Friday of 2017, I weaved my way through the hairstyles and pedicures. This is where "deer in the headlights" applies to man. I survived and climbed the mountain; the steps to the relaxation room.

Relaxation is what I needed and it is what I got. The massage was excellent. I think I fell asleep in the middle of it. Actually, from the moment I hit you to the massage nap, it has all been a bit of a weird and wacky dream.

Alas, there is gratitude. I was not injured. My Subaru is still fighting the good fight. I will not offer an apology because I had no intention of this outcome. You presented a challenge early in 2017. If I see any of your family in the winter ahead, I hope it is from a safe distance.

There is no turning back now.