Saturday, November 14, 2009

Oh Deer

A bulletin arrived in our mailbox the other day, informing us of a "controlled deer hunt" taking place in our neighborhood this week.

"What kind of monsters are going to kill poor little deer?" I asked my husband, conjuring up images of Bambi in my backyard.

Apparently, hunters will be out from 2 to 5 a.m. in the woods. The notice advised us, "If you hear gunshots, do NOT go into the woods." Oh, thank you for the warning. I'm usually out walking in the woods from 2 to 5 a.m., stargazing and gathering berries. Right.

Come on. Who the hell in their right mind would follow the sound of gunshots into the woods in the middle of the night?

When I hear gunshots at night, I usually turn over and whisper, "Babe, turn that off!" My husband responds, "Gee whiz, Old Lady Jenkins, it's Law and Order!" Then I get heated. "I don't care what it is, I can't fall asleep to the sound of gunshots and women screaming, okay?"

Needless to say, I don't think I'll sleep well hearing shots fired at innocent deer. But, here's the kicker. "The hunters will be using silencers," the bulletin explains, in a futile attempt to calm my fears. Oh my god. The hunters are world-class assassins. Great.

I wonder if Sarah Palin will be out with the hunters, clad in Armani camouflage (straight from Neiman Marcus), or does she just prefer to shoot animals from the safety of the sky?

I think I might provide arms to the deer to try to even the playing field. Perhaps the deer would agree to pose with my baby for a holiday card if I outfit them with night-vision goggles and help them mount a counter-insurgency.

I could post signs or start a protest to save the deer. I could hide them in my home. Or I could go out in the woods and warn them tonight. "Hey you, Prancer, hurry, go to Gladwyne! You over there....yeah you.... there's safe haven in Haverford, go!"

I'm not sure why I'm this concerned about the deer at all. When I was in high school, jogging on a tree-lined street in Villanova, I came face to face with a deer. We both looked at each other unsure of who would make the first move. The deer proceeded to trot like a horse down the paved road in my direction and I ran like hell, looking frantically over my shoulder, yelling, "What kind of deer chase people?!"

I have come to the conclusion that if I get involved with this deer hunt, it will be my husband tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep to the sound of gunshots and one crazy woman screaming, "Don't shoot! Stop chasing me!"

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