Yeah…driving is great. Several hundred (or even thousands) of pounds of metal machinery are at your command. What a feeling of power. But with silver lining there is a cloud; and since my life is no different, there are things that can make the experience of driving less enjoyable.

Speeding tickets come to mind first. Seeing the flashing blue lights of a Virginia State Trooper in your rear-view mirror can suck the fun right out of your drive. Sunday drivers on a Friday afternoon, when you’ve gotten off work early, also tend to disrupt the pleasure. But there is one thing that can really mess up your day…animals.

Now, I’m not talking about people driving crazy and stupid along the road. I mean the fury ones, and feathery ones. The ones that have four legs, or sometimes two, or even the ones that have two but used to have four. I hate it when they run out in front of you. I hate when they stand in the middle of the road and stare you down, daring you to budge first. But I really hate it when they don’t get out of your way in time.

As you may have figured by now, I have not had the greatest luck when it comes to animals and vehicles; or even just vehicles for that matter. And what would Beebo Land be without humorous anecdotes about my misadventures?

Amazingly enough, I have never hit a squirrel. They have always managed to escape (no matter how much I swerve towards them—just kidding). Seriously, I have never killed a squirrel. I did hit a bird once. It didn’t fly in front of me or anything. It was just sitting in the road, looking right at me. It didn’t look like it was hurt. At least not before I hit it. I kept honking my horn. I kept yelling at it to move--but my window was up so that probably didn’t help. I couldn’t swerve. A car was coming at me in the other lane and there was a ditch on the passenger's side. So I ran over it. I thought it would fly away. It didn’t.

I also ran over a skunk. I didn’t hit it mind you. I saw it walking down the middle of the road and I just knew if I hit it my car would stink like crazy. I maneuvered my car so that I would drive right over him (or her) without killing it. But of course it sprayed my car as I passed over, instantly filling my car with the fragrant aroma that is skunk stink. It took weeks to get that smell out of my car, along with two cans of air-freshener and a box of Borax. I stunk too. I was only 15 seconds from my driveway and it smelled like I had mistaken him for cologne. This earned me the distinctly dignified moniker “Skunk Boy” given to me by my Aunt Nancy Ellen. Thanks Aunt Nancy Ellen!

Lastly, and most recently (just a few weeks ago) I hit a deer. Shawn and I have recently moved. And Lizeth (my girlfriend mentioned in November’s column and seen above) moved in next door. So, while I was bringing my grill and some boxes from my old place to my new one, a deer runs right out in front of me. I didn’t see it until I had sent it into a downward spin. Naturally I killed it. It was cute too. I felt really bad. So I made a u-turn and pulled-in to a driveway next to where I had hit it. I directed traffic around where she (it was a doe) was laying while I called the police to report the dead deer in the road. Well that’s my story. I don’t think I embellished any facts too much. If I did, o well, you guys wouldn’t know the difference anyway, right?