Hard To Kill

The poor kid was in tears. He begged me for an ambulance through the sobs. I had to tell him no ambulance was coming, and then, to look away.

It was the first time I had ever fired my gun on duty. I remember the sense of relief when my gun went off, laying to rest any doubts that my duty ammunition and Sig Sauer P226 would function as advertised. Sure, it never gave me any trouble on the range, but there was a hidden, lingering uncertainty when it came to a real world situation. In that moment, any uncertainty I had was laid to rest.

Ending a life is not something to revel in, though it is sometimes necessary. I understood that when I pulled the trigger on a cold winter’s night.

Moment Of Truth

When I had arrived on scene a few minutes earlier, it had only been a couple of hours into my midnight shift. I had been a police officer for just a couple years but something inside me knew this moment would come — even hoped for it. There’s no way to predict the day or the hour, you just have to trust that you’re ready.

The headlights of my cruiser illuminated the car that was pulled over to the side of the wooded, unlit road, along with the kid who stood not far from it. My headlights cast a long shadow of the caller who stood ankle-deep in the snow where the trees and brush met the pavement. He stood looking into the forest, apparently downcast and distraught. My eyes followed his gaze along a set of footprints and drag marks in the snow, highlighted by a trail of blood, that led to the source of his sorrow.

Help Wasn’t Coming

As I opened my cruiser door I could hear his crying as he frantically turned and began a desperate explanation of what happened and then pleas for help — for me to do something. Through his tears he begged me to call an ambulance to save it.

He was young, maybe 19 or 20 years old, and he was beside himself. He had been driving along the dark, winding road, when he struck a deer, crushing its hind legs. The deer had pulled itself out of the road using only its front legs and made it just inside the wood-line where it glanced back at us in its attempt to get away.

After I explained to him that ambulances were for people, and that one wouldn’t be coming, I told him to look away — or better yet, leave, because I was going to have to put it down. It took a few seconds for my words to sink in, but when they did, he was out of there. Still sniffling and wiping his eyes, he got in his car and drove away.

Down Time

Before we put an animal down, we were required to get permission from a supervisor before doing the deed. I asked for permission, got the okay, and approached Bambi. I’m no hunter so I figured the universal solution to ending a life would be to aim for the brain. I walked up to the deer, pointed my pistol at its head, and pulled the trigger. The loud report broke the silence of the winter night and carried with an echo through the woods. The deer slumped down, its head draped over to one side, and it instantly stopped struggling.

I trudged through the snow back to my car where I got on the radio and called out that the deer was no longer in service. I glanced down at the cradle as I hung up the radio mic and then back through the windshield as I put my cruiser in drive. All of the sudden, the deer popped up from out of the snow and tried getting away again! What the …!? This deer was tougher than Steven Seagal in Hard To Kill.

Getting Out Of Dodge

There was no way I was going to go over the radio and ask for permission to kill this zombie deer a second time. That would be embarrassing. I mean, I had literally just announced to everyone over the air that it was as good as dead and buried. I also felt terrible that this poor thing had been hit by a car, crippled, shot in the head, and was still determined to get away.

With a sigh, I put it in park, hopped out of my cruiser, went over to the little deer that could, and BAM! shot it in the head a second time. This time, I stood there for a minute and waited. Nothing. With the second round it appeared as though the desired affect had been achieved. I turned on my heels and got out of Dodge before that little woodland Frankenstein came back for thirds.

Never Give Up

The funny thing about this story is that when I started writing it, I had no intention of turning it into an allegory for never giving up. But now, for some reason, I just can’t help myself. So, be like the deer, my friend. No matter how many times you get run over, crippled, shot, and left for dead, be hard to kill and never, ever give up!

And for more on how to kill a deer with one shot, check out this article from Outdoor Life.

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– Have you been knocked down a lot lately?
– Do you fee like quitting?
– What can you focus on for the motivation to keep going?
– How can you turn your downfall into an uprising?
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