I almost hit a deer on the drive home from work today. The first one was in the middle of the road as I rounded a bend just a mile or so from the cabin. It bounded off the roadway and into the brush. Then a second one bolted for the other side of the road. I know I only missed it by inches--certainly less than a foot. I was already bracing myself and about to say "oh sh**" but somehow I didn't hit it.
Earlier, I saw a little icy precipitation, but it didn't amount to enough to cause the roads to be slippery. The deck of the cabin, though, is another story. It is icy.
I let Baby Dog out first. She bounded over the hole where the screen door used to be, slid on the ice but recovered like a pro skater and launched herself over the steps and out into the woods. Dog came out next, fell to his knees, his hindquarters going in the opposite direction. He pulled himself to his feet without losing a beat and then with great dignity and delicacy stepped off the deck and down the stairs.