Deer droppings
26 July, 2006 - 18:28
Okay kiddos... here are some ground rules. It is not cool to drop off animals at stranger's houses. This rule also applies even when said stranger already has one specimen of whatever unusual species you are trying to unload. Case in point... We have an 8 point whitetail buck with an orange collar and a bell in the pen in front of our house. He came into our lives three years ago on a chance encounter in one of our pastures and for whatever reason has decided that he we will not leave, despite my tantrums, and despite the allure of heavily scented females in the surrounding woods. Well, as far as females go, he need not fret nor wonder any longer. Some benevolent individual, assuredly upon seeing his plight, has taken it upon themselves to provide him a mate. Family and I looked up a few days ago and discovered a new beating heart in our paddock. A little, baby female deer. Surely delivered by that illusive stork that populates our world, depositing babies and Gerber coupons in all needy locales. How else can one explain such a gift? Well, children, here is one attempt.
Individual X finds himself dressed in full camo alone in the woods on some stranger's property with his rifle. Ahoy! And what is that there? A doe? A deer? A female deer? Oh my. Oh me. Oh what am I to do? Well, shoot it I will. Yes, that is what I'll do. But wait! It is only July and hunting season is months away. Oh my. Oh me. Oh what will I do. Just shoot it. Okay. And shoot it X does. Well now, that was easy, and the eatings good. So dress it and haul it to my house I will and fill my freezer and light my grill. But wait, what's that? A little deer in the brush? It is. So quivering and scared. What to do, oh what to do? It's mother was alive but I shot in July. Oh? That is why, that is why there is no hunting season in July! Well, I'll take it to my daughter and she'll raise it on a bottle and we'll keep it till it's grown and give it a home, oh give it a home! So to his daughter little Bambi goes and she loves her spots and loves her nose. But feeding her is hard and they're playing games out in the yard, oh daddy no, daddy no, I will not take care of this Bambi anymore. Hmmm, so what is X to do with a baby deer in July... why I know!! I will put it in my truck and take it down the road to a place where I have seen another deer not in the woods, I will take it to the Greer's, to their yard, to their house, I will leave it without note as quiet as a mouse. They have a deer with a bell! So surely this will work out well. And I can tell that he's quite lonely and now poor motherless Bambi can be his one and only. The end.
Or... someone just found it. Or... the mother was hit by a car. Or... the stork?
And I really, honestly, without a hint of sarcasm have nothing against hunting or against killing an animal that you plan on eating. But regardless of whether or not a scenario similar to the above one actually lead to this baby deer being dropped off at our house, you know it happens all the time, and it really is pathetic. The rule is... killing is okay, but you have to kill by the rules.
Individual X finds himself dressed in full camo alone in the woods on some stranger's property with his rifle. Ahoy! And what is that there? A doe? A deer? A female deer? Oh my. Oh me. Oh what am I to do? Well, shoot it I will. Yes, that is what I'll do. But wait! It is only July and hunting season is months away. Oh my. Oh me. Oh what will I do. Just shoot it. Okay. And shoot it X does. Well now, that was easy, and the eatings good. So dress it and haul it to my house I will and fill my freezer and light my grill. But wait, what's that? A little deer in the brush? It is. So quivering and scared. What to do, oh what to do? It's mother was alive but I shot in July. Oh? That is why, that is why there is no hunting season in July! Well, I'll take it to my daughter and she'll raise it on a bottle and we'll keep it till it's grown and give it a home, oh give it a home! So to his daughter little Bambi goes and she loves her spots and loves her nose. But feeding her is hard and they're playing games out in the yard, oh daddy no, daddy no, I will not take care of this Bambi anymore. Hmmm, so what is X to do with a baby deer in July... why I know!! I will put it in my truck and take it down the road to a place where I have seen another deer not in the woods, I will take it to the Greer's, to their yard, to their house, I will leave it without note as quiet as a mouse. They have a deer with a bell! So surely this will work out well. And I can tell that he's quite lonely and now poor motherless Bambi can be his one and only. The end.
Or... someone just found it. Or... the mother was hit by a car. Or... the stork?
And I really, honestly, without a hint of sarcasm have nothing against hunting or against killing an animal that you plan on eating. But regardless of whether or not a scenario similar to the above one actually lead to this baby deer being dropped off at our house, you know it happens all the time, and it really is pathetic. The rule is... killing is okay, but you have to kill by the rules.