For most of my forty-one years, I’ve been traveling the roads of the north-east of England (occasionally, when I could be bothered) — a little like The Littlest Hobo, only much cuter and with a warm bed waiting for me at the end of each day. And during my travels I’ve often seen the familiar deer warning sign…
… but I’ve never actually seen a deer hereabouts.
Until today.
Unfortunately, it was dead in ditch, the car that had just hit it pulled over at the side of the road beside it.
In the immortal words of Granddad from Only Fools and Horses (more or less, because I’m unsure of the exact quote), “There’s a moral to this story, Del-boy, but for the life of me I can’t think what it is.”
