Vail Law: Grandma got run over by a reindeer — the legal liabilities
Grandma got run over by a reindeer.
It’s more complicated than you think. After all, the reindeer — let’s presume it’s Rudolph — is not a human being. As such, the anthropomorphism of him notwithstanding, he does not have independent agency or free will, at least as contemplated by the law.
Add to that the fact that the whole Santa-and-the-reindeer shtick flowered from a Sears and Roebuck marketing campaign, admittedly one that has taken off and through the years gained traction, you can see that we have quite a mess.
To pile it on, well … Santa himself. Let’s presume for our purposes that — yes, Virginia — he is real.
With our parameters now set, let’s examine the legalities.
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First, did Grandma contribute to her own harm? Was she jaywalking rather than crossing at a marked intersection when the sleigh slid through? Or, as Santa tends to fly, was she waiting for him on her rooftop near the chimney? If the answer to either of these questions is a “yes,” then that’s a different kettle of fish entirely, and Grandma’s claim will likely be reduced.
Let’s take this a bit further; in knowing it was Christmas Eve, in posting up in harm’s way near the chimney, can it be maintained that Grandma “accepted the risk?” Or worse, perhaps, that she “came to the nuisance?” Both of which would, at the least, lay some culpability on Grandma’s head and reduce Poor Rudolph’s (and therefore, Santa’s) legal exposure.
Did others potentially contribute to Grandma’s woes? Let’s say this whole sorry affair takes place in New England, certain parts of which are known for widow’s walks. Let’s say too that Grandma’s was recently resurfaced. What if the resurfaced — a roofing company, I presume — failed to lay the surface flat, the consequence of which is that Grandma tripped and, in tripping, her noggin got up close and personal with Rudolph’s churning hooves as he, Santa, and the other reindeer were coming in for a swift and stealthy landing?
In that case — ah hah! — add the roofer to the complaint as he may be comparatively negligent and, accordingly, may share responsibility for Grandma’s injuries.
There too is the question of Grandma potentially ignoring all the warnings. Since at least 1939, when the Rudolph story was first born, every sentient being from 3 to 103 knows that: a) Santa and the Reindeer wing it on Christmas Eve; b) they are in a hurry; c) they swoop in and out just long enough for the fat man to shimmy with his bag of goodies down the chimney, have a quick nibble of a cookie and a slug of milk, then pop back up and off they go; and d) that Rudolph’s nose is brighter than the blast cloud of a nuclear detonation. If Grandma ignored all this, shouldn’t the fault be largely hers?
What if the sled itself was defective? Is this Santa’s or the reindeer’s fault, or does liability lie with the manufacturer? This may call for the testimony of experts who can recreate the precise mechanism by which Grandma was injured. Say a runner was defectively bolted to the sleigh; this could change the whole equation and shift liability for Rudolph, Santa, and the other reindeer to Boeing, MacDonnell Douglas or wherever else it more rightly belongs.
Before we get to damages, a word or two first about agency.
It seems unequivocal that Rudolph is Santa’s agent and the injury, if Grandma is to be believed, occurred on the job — in the performance of his employment duties. As Santa had the reins and was presumably in charge, Rudolph was, more likely than not, acting at Santa’s behest. As such, the law of agency would come into play and, even though it might be Rudolph who caused the actual harm, responsibility will flow to Jolly ‘ol Saint Nick who, after facing a jury of his peers, might find himself a bit less jolly.
Now, what about her damages? If liability is proved, what might Grandma hope to recover? First, she may be entitled to reimbursement of her medical expenses.
Next, if future care is indicated, Santa may have to work extra hours next year at his workshop to cover that as well. If there is lost or damaged property, Santa will likely have to ante up for it. If Grandma is employed, lost wages may be recoverable and, if the facts so demonstrate, for both past and future losses.
What if — God forbid! — Grandma was disfigured? Particularly if she were a Betty Crocker model or some such, you may include that in the stash of her potential yuletide goodies. Pain and suffering? Yes, of course. And if Grandma is married (as to be a Grandma, she most surely is or was), then Grandma’s hubby may entitled to loss of consortium damages (the loss or impairment of the intangible benefits of his relationship with Granny).
However you slice it, it is a sorry affair.
Grandma lies injured during this festive time of year, Rudolph is, at the least chagrined, and Santa, wishing he had been better insured, may be working long hours in the offseason instead of lounging on the clement shores of Bali.
And yet … His eyes will still twinkle and his dimples will be merry. His cheeks will be like roses and his nose like a cherry. After filling the stockings of good girls and boys, away he will sprite with a Happy Christmas to all. And to all, a good night.
Rohn K. Robbins is an attorney licensed before the Bars of Colorado and California who practices in the Vail Valley with the Law Firm of Caplan & Earnest, LLC. His practice areas include business and commercial transactions; real estate and development; family law, custody, and divorce; and civil litigation. Robbins may be reached at 970-926-4461 or Rrobbins@CELaw.com. His novels, “How to Raise a Shark (an apocryphal tale),” “The Stone Minder’s Daughter,” “Why I Walk so Slow” and “He Said They Came From Mars (stories from the edge of the legal universe)” and “The Theory of Dancing Mice” are currently available at fine booksellers.