MICKI BARE Advertisement

Most people unintentionally yet tragically hit curious deer, confused squirrels, lazy possums and armadillos, and unsupervised dogs and cats with their vehicles. It is always sad to see the remains of an animal on the side of the road.

For some reason, I don't have much experience running down four-legged creatures. And you would think this would be good news. Unfortunately, it is not that I never hit animals. On the occasions during which my vehicle has unintentionally collided with a poor defenseless creature, it was one with only two legs and a set of wings.

I have the unfortunate luck of owning cars that come with the uncanny ability to attract birds.

The first birds I ever hit were chickens. I was on my way to work one morning by way of the child care center where my two oldest sons attended long before their youngest brother entered our lives. We were in my first minivan, a red vehicle with manual doors and a rather pointy hood.

As we made our way down the winding country roads toward our destination, I could see several chickens on the side of the road ahead of us. At the very moment my car was passing the chickens, the chickens took flight, heading where else? To the other side of the road, of course.

Chickens do not fly very high. I can attest to the fact that they can only achieve an altitude of car-grill height when flying across a road. I heard a thump and saw a few feathers poof up over the hood of my van.

My oldest son asked why the feathers were floating up instead of down. I didn't have the heart to tell my then three-year-old that the feathers were the remains of a couple of now-deceased chickens. I simply told him it was a mystery.

For the rest of the day and weeks after, I kept asking myself why? Why did the chickens have to cross the road at the moment my car was passing through? Why did I have to be the one to hit them? Years later we still talk about the tragic story, though my children usually begin it with, "Hey, ask my mom why the chicken crossed the road!"

My youngest was with me during my next bird collision tragedy. We were on the way to his school one morning when a bird swooped down right in front of my car. It was not a large bird, and I immediately assumed it swooped off to one side or the other as most birds do.

My youngest saw the bird swoop toward us and immediately turned his head and looked out the back window. "You ran over that bird, Mom!" he exclaimed, "It's squashed on the road behind us!"

My stomach turned at the thought of the defenseless spring bird, most likely recently the proud parent of a nest full of eggs, colliding with my car. On the rest of the ride to school, I told my youngest the tragedy of the chickens and how I couldn't believe my luck with birds.

Then, just last week, my bad bird luck emerged again. This time, like during the chicken incident, there were two birds. All three boys were in my car as we headed toward the middle and high schools. The birds swooped down from a telephone wire, smacked into the right side of my windshield, and then bounced off onto the shoulder of the four-lane road.

I was driving at about 35 mph. The birds must have been swooping at a similar speed. It happened so fast that I wasn't sure if the thud on my windshield was, in fact, caused by bird-impact. But my oldest confirmed the hit. He witnessed the entire tragedy from a perfect front passenger seat vantage point.

No one ever talks about the bird they hit on the way to work while gabbing around the water cooler -- at least not in my experience. Unless, of course, they are talking to me and I'm recapping my latest tragic bird story.

There are devices one can purchase and install on a car that send out sounds that will deter deer and other animals from charging at and colliding with the vehicle. I never had or needed one. What I need is a device that sounds like a cat or other animal that preys on birds. Or maybe someone could recommend a paint color that would deter flying fowl.

My bird-collision incidences occur in intervals of about five to six years. Therefore, animal protection engineers have about five to six years to invent a way to prevent bird-car collisions. If not, I will have no choice but to give up the morning commute -- the time at which all of the tragedies occurred -- for the safety and preservation of our winged friends.

Micki Bare is a columnist for the Arkansas News Bureau and the Courier-Tribune in Asheboro, N.C., and author of the book, "Relative Expressions." She lives in Asheboro with her husband and three children. Her e-mail address is mickibare@inspiredscribe.com.