Why do people kill animals for fun?

Just last night, I discovered the sheer horror of hitting my first animal in a car. I've been driving since winter 2006, I've had my license since October of last year and I've been driving regularly since then, and the worst I have done since I first started driving was back into a parking meter and back into another parked car at 5 mph.

Last night, however, after quite a few close calls with birds playing chicken down high speed roads and a raccoon running across the freeway last weekend, I finally full-on hit my very first live animal in a car. And guess what it was.

It was no unfortunate kitty or dog that'd got off its leash late at night. It wasn't some pesky skunk or oposssum. It was, to my horror, a full grown doe.

Those familiar with Washington roadways, especially the less-traveled "back roads" as most of us like to call them, know that they are pretty populated with wildlife, considering the fact that most of our roads cut through farmland, forested areas and meadows and the like.

The road in question was Axton road, in particular the section that connects Hannegan to the Guide Meridian. I was about halfway down the road and I had just passed an oncoming car so my low beams were still on - this, as most of us accustomed to driving at night will know, will always be the major downfall of any animal in the dark because the driver won't see it until it is too late.

As was the case with me, I continued driving down the empty road, with my fingers just one click away from high beams, and before I knew what was even happening I was slamming on the brakes as a deer slid up the hood and came dangerously close to shattering the windshield with its flailing hooves.

Scared and shaken out of my mind, (I can imagine the deer felt the same) I pulled the car off the road and parked, grabbed a flashlight and jumped out to inspect not the car, but the deer. It had fallen off the hood of my car as soon as I'd stopped, and hobbled out of the way as soon as I began moving again. The fact that I have bad night vision teamed with general bad eyesight even though I wear glasses made it hard to see what had happened to the car so I didn't even bother. I was more concerned for the large animal I'd just mowed down.

The poor deer had decided to lay down next to a nearby fence, as it turns out I'd pulled out next to what appeared to be something to do with electricity stuff or what not so there was a large fence around the whole area. It lay panting and staring at me as I approached slowly, but as soon as I turned on the flashlight it got up and started to limp away. I didn't get any closer, but I was close enough to see the damage that my 14 year old Pontiac had done to this unfortunate creature.

I had hit the deer at about 50 mph, and as a result of this, I'd broken its front right leg. I was forced to leave, unable to do anything but feel sorry for the poor helpless thing at this point, and I watched it limp away into the trees as I drove off, still shaking.

Now, at this point I was still 20 minutes from home, and still had to stop in town before I could finally come home and relax. I started to think, though, as I drove back through Ferndale, that I had just witnessed a "deer in the headlights" for the first time. I started to wonder why men hunt and kill these beautiful animals, when enough of them are slaughtered on the roadways and left to die like that every year.

I don't understand the point of hunting, and I think hitting the deer last night made me realize why: I'm an animal lover (but anti-PETA, thank you) and I can't even bear the thought of running an animal over on accident, let alone killing one on purpose. I once dropped my cat face-first onto the picnic table on accident and as a result he ended up with a misshapen pupil, and I cried for a week after it because I felt so bad for him. (My parents constantly berating me about it didn't help, either.)

This experience has left me with more to chew on now than anything really has. It's an unfortunate thing to have happen, I know, but I think that from now on, if I hit an animal, I'll be lucky if I drive off knowing it isn't off dying slowly and miserably from being hit with 1.5 tons of Pontiac.