My 17-year-old Honda, Broomhilda, met a tragic end. Why do we grieve when our cars die?
Los Angeles Times -

Our 17-year-old Honda CR-V (affectionately dubbed "Broomhilda") met her tragic, premature demise last summer when a deer bolted out of neighboring woods, straight into her hood. My husband, who miraculously emerged unscathed, managed to drive it home and repair the dent. Unfortunately, unknown to us, radiator fluid slowly leaked into her engine until, months later, we pulled into our driveway to find our kids frantic as plumes of smoke rose out of her hood, every single alert on her dash alight...

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