I was coming home from college one Friday night and saw a doe stick her head across the white line and catch a semi front bumper in the ear. It was December, deer season was still in so I said what the heck. I figured the deer was not damaged as all I saw was the wack in head and she was knocked away from the road.

Upon getting her home my Dad and I dressed her out. (or tried) The only bones in her body not broken were her back legs from the hocks down! The meat was bloodshot and never mind the cavity. The semi and I were running about 65 mph. It is amazing what kind of energy transfer she took. That ended my desire for road kill!

I had a lady hit a doe down the street from my house. She used our phone then we went down to see the deer. When the police officer got there we asked if we could keep the deer and he filled out the paper work and we took it. Another time we were in a squirrel tournament and needed one more. We found one on the way to the weigh in.

My Dad picks em up all the time he's got a 60 acre Coyote pen and it cheaper than feeding them dog food. Course his usually aren't as fresh as the ones above. I wouldn't do it but its his thing. Coyote field trials are pretty popular around here for some of the dog owners.

I have never picked up a road-kill deer. We usually see the deer once they are days old or have been splattered all over the road. Once someone hit a deer by our driveway and didn't have anybody take care of it. I t sat there a couple of days and was spoiled, so we dragged it out to the middle of our field and used it as coyote bait.

I've picked up 10-15 in the past. I just take the back straps and feed the rest to the ravens.

Saw a story a few years back about deer carcasses being used to feed eagles during a hard winter.

Never picked up road kill myself. There's a local restaurant called The Moose Preserve. They have a dish called the Road Kill Grill - venison, quail, and boar sausage. When you order it they give you a bumper sticker that says, "I Eat My Roadkill."

I've picked a couple of deer up. We can also go to the court house and have our name and number on a list. So when someone does hit a deer and the cops show up they will have someone give a person on the list a call to grab it if they want.

When I first moved to Alaska, 20+ yrs ago, I joined a road-kill crew that would collect road-kills (usually moose) and distribute them to charities...we collected many fine moose...I vividly recall a huge bull that had been killed by a train...it was 55 below that january night...cutting up a frozen moose, in the dark, at -55, was something I will never forget...

Since all the parties involved with this tale have passed to their rewards, I guess it is safe to tell.
Fifty years or so ago, my Father and Mother were returning home from a rare dinner out. They did not have money to spare, but it was their anniversary, and the closest restaurant was 30 miles from their tiny ranch. A deer jumped out of the wild sun flowers beside the road and took out their headlight and fender. It was ten at night. My Dad said it would be a shame to waste the meat, and besides it had ruined their car. He dumped what he thought was a carcass into the trunk, and headed for home. While he and my Mother were arguing the legal ethics, and I'm sure several issues, low and behold, the deer came to. My Mother, in later years would laugh until tears ran down her cheeks recounting the next twenty minutes. At the time I'm sure it was not so funny. The dust cloud caused by the deer kicking the back seat made visibility almost impossible. Their tired old Buick had spent it's career on dirt roads and had stored plenty of dust for this occasion. She was sure the animal would explode into the front seat at any moment. My Father refused to stop and let it out. He was used to seeing things through. Good or bad. Upon arriving home, Mom stormed into the house, leaving Dad alone to deal with the issue.. He opened the trunk and was flattened by the deer which then pounded him around for a bit, then the deer staggered off aways and stood still. It was obviously badly injured. Dad scratched his head, decided he should put the animal out of it's misery, limped into the house got his old Enfield 06, went back into the lists and killed the deer.

While Dad was field dressing, out of the darkness walked an old sourdough neighbor, who opened up his knife and said " he knew that a shot from our house at that time of night would involve a story worth walking half a mile and three foot bridges to hear. He wasn't disappointed.