A long time ago, a friend taught out in western Colorado and often drove back through the mountains to Pueblo on deer-infested roads.
On one trip, he slammed on the brakes and managed to stop a foot or so short of a dim-witted deer, which leapt up into the air in terror, landed on the sturdy hood of his car, and did a tap dance before leaping off and escaping.
His story was easy to credit because there were lots of dents in the hood of his car.
