We live in hunter’s paradise. Well, we used to live in hunter’s paradise. Now, you actually have to walk in the woods for a while before you can shoot a deer, and you might have to drag it a couple hundred feet to your truck.
My family has never hunted, but we support the (whining) hunters in our county. Hey, any dead deer is one less chance that we’ll drive into them. And now we have another reason to reduce the deer population: Bambi ate our garden.
Our beautiful, organic, seed-grown peas and beans were demolished by a statuesque, very healthy-looking deer which undoubtedly might be a prize during hunting season. My dad saw the deer enjoying its feast on our garden, cried out to my Mom and she scared it away by screaming at it through an open window. Here’s the destruction:
It’s hard to see it in the pictures, but the destruction is rampant. The deer demolished our peas and beans, and its hooves ripped into some potatoes and tomatoes.
I heard my parents talking about how an “outside dog” would take care of this situation. So, I’m going to try to be an especially good “inside dog”. I don’t want to have to associate with the Snook dogs.
I love you!