Deer: It's What's For Dinner

It happens to be hunting season. I'm not a participant, though in a strangely uncharacteristic twist I don't particularly mind it, in a hunter and gatherer sort of way. I'm a fan of venison stew, jerky and the like. I'm not really a fan of heads on walls but if you ate the rest of it, I'll let it pass. But come on people!

I keep waking up in the sounds of gun shots. Gun shots are not supposed to happen in the middle of the night, I'm pretty sure that hunting after dark is illegal, if not it's super duper stupid. The other day I was taking a different route on my run and saw a lovely shot up sign. I can only assume it was a drunken mistake: sign, deer, person they all look the same as you drive by in the dark.

What astounds me the most is how proud people are about the deer they kill. There are numbers involved like sports, stories and silly lingo. It's so bad that people trade the meat like cards. Hell, you kill a cow you freeze that for yourself, but not a deer you split your prize for bragging rights.

Antlers usually constitute a lasting trophy- for the wall  or the back window of the truck, perhaps a coat rack (that's a bit of a pun, hehe). One would think that for a trophy to count you'd have to shoot the deer yourself, but I may have thought wrong. The other day I was driving home from work at dusk and there was a small crowd gathered in the median. I figured it was the aftermath of an accident or people decorating the pine tree, I was wrong. There was one man standing bewildered and stupid, one man hold half a deer's rack and the third man was holding a saw. It wasn't a hit and snatch the trophy, that deer has been there laying on the side of the road for a while.

I still don't know why the bewildered man was there, he didn't walk away with the other two, he didn't have another car.

Deer Make Me Sad

You've seen the movie Bambie, yes? It's not a particularly uplifting film unless you think dead mothers and absent fathers are hella awesome. Lately the deer have been bringing me down in real life. They're everywhere trying to make me wreck my car, they make the sides of the roads foul when I am running and apparently they're pooping all over the back yard.

Partly this problema comes about because of the time of year- hunting season. The poor dears are scared that some stupid hunter is going to shoot them and not eat them (tis a cryin' shame to not eat the venison) so they dash wildly about in front of cars--during the day no less. I have yet to get one (and in writing this I am jinxing myself) but not for their lack of trying.

You should have seen it the other day. I walked downstairs to see Hope running through the backyard screaming like a wacko. Apparently, since my dog died in September, it is Hope's job to chase the deer out of the yard. Yeah, it seems weird but Hope is about the same weight as the dog. She moves quicker then he did at the end so they freak and flee.

Poor deer, being chased by teenagers and gun toting rednecks, it's no excuse to commit suicide under my tires.