Dent Repair

Even though it has been more than 24 hours, I continue to feel shaken by the encounter with the deer. I keep replaying the incident, trying to figure out if I did something wrong. Of course I know that it would have been impossible to miss the darting deer, but that reality is doing little to soothe my frazzled nerves. Instead of focusing on the accident, I am trying to count our blessings. I was upset when I saw the imprint of the deer bum on the hood of my SUV, but it could have been far worse.

Yesterday afternoon Mr. Bill showed up at my front door, carrying two pieces of wood and a hammer.  He instructed me to pop the hood on the SUV, which I did without question. I learned a long time ago to not question Mr. Bill when he is set on a project. I didn't know what he was planning, but I knew enough to realize that I wasn't going to stop him. 

After inspecting the crumpled hood from a variety of angles, he put his lit cigarette on top of our trash can before putting a 2x4 slightly above the biggest indentation. After he was content with its location, he began to hit it with the hammer.  After a few good whacks he removed the wood and put the cigarette back in his mouth.  He moved around the car and repeated the process three more times. 

When he was done, all of the major dents were removed from the hood. I can still see a slight bubble from the incident, but all other remnants were literally beaten away. I'm delighted that the only evidence of our run in with the deer are a few rogue hairs caught in the grill and some bad memories.