I hit a cow with my car. It was evening, almost nine o’clock.
It was that time of day they call in Scotland “the gloaming” when objects are hard to make out. I was cruising down the road heading north from Nashville, Ind., and this big black cow stepped out in front of me.
Just a-roaming in the gloaming, I guess. A car was coming toward me in the southbound lane, so swerving left was out of the question.
I could hear the rattle and tinkle of metal falling from the right front of the car as I pulled off the road.
The guy who was traveling behind me in his pickup pulled over to see if I was OK. Nice of him to do that.
I was not hurt, but the cow was. She was still alive, which made me sad. The deputy who came to the scene eventually would put her down. He took the necessary information from me then said I was free to go.
When I tell people about my cow-car accident, the reaction I have been getting is a laugh or at least a big smile. When I called my insurance guy, he chuckled.