I’ve had two deer in wagons.
The first was a Daf 55 rigid when I first started driving. I was on for Nightfreight and had already had a seriously bad day after some idiot builder who was supposed to watch me back around a bollard too low for me to se,e instead backed me straight into it, quite spectacularly bending the side rails.
As a newbie I’d already had enough knocks to be known as “Bumper” by the lads, so I was dreading what they’d say when they saw the damage. Then less than 10 minutes from the depot Bambi decides to launch itself out of a hedge, taking out the entire nearside corner of the cab, headlight and all. As I drove through the gate in what now looked like a complete scrapper you could hear the howls of laughter coming from everyone except the gaffer for three counties around, shortly followed by the screech of tyres as a couple of the warehouse boys commandeered (no pun intended!) the nearest van so they could try and find the carcass for the barbecue!
The cab corner got fixed. The siderails got taken off, flattened out using the time-honoured method of driving over them with a forklift, and bolted on again. I didn’t last much longer in that job.
The second was when I was on for clothes retailer New Look, who at the time still ran their own fleet out of Weymouth, with most runs double-manned for night-time deliveries. We were steaming south out of Salisbury (me driving) down the short stretch of dual carriageway just outside town on the Southampton road when two deer came out in front of us. The first made it across, the second made a rather sickening thud, then as we sailed past (braking, but too late), clambered to it’s feet and disappeared after it’s mate. Since we were in an old Series 3 Scania with a gurt metal bumper, the truck escaped completely unharmed.
The only other incident which sticks in my mind was also on New Look, only this time it was my turn in the jump seat. We were covering a West Country run midsummer so it was still light late on, and as we ran down one of the many long hills on the A38 we could see a dead - or, at least, flat badger in the road ahead. As we got closer it slowly lifted what was left of it’s head and stared at our truck coming steadily towards it. A quick too-and-fro discussion confirmed we both agreed on the kindest course of action, so my co-driver positioned us a little closer to the kerb than was strictly necessary to ensure the job was finished off.
(Then there was the seagull I hit down near Tilbury early one week, the head of which stayed stuck in my catwalk until I got back to the pressure washer up here on Teesside 3 days later 'cos I was too squeamish to try and disentangle it by hand…And the pigeon I deliberately left splatted across the grill of my car until we sold it, simply because it made the kids squeal…And countless voles, rats, hedgehogs and bunnies…But they were just normal roadkill so don’t really count. )