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Oh My Deer

There's an article in today's Odd News, about a deer hunter in Missouri. The hunter went hunting and shot his deer twice. The deer fell down, and the hunter went to check out and admire his kill. Apparently the deer decided to only "play" dead, and when the hunter approached, the deer leaped up and proceeded to give the hunter an old-fashioned butt-whipping. The hunter was able to recover enough to "take care of" the deer. This time he made sure the deer was absolutely dead. The hunter however, had a minor concussion, bruises, and needed stitches in his scalp.

I'm not saying hunting is bad - I eat meat AND I know where it comes from. But memo to the hunter: Next time, you might want to make sure the deer is actually dead before approaching him.

Deer are kind of like stray cats, in that it is not really that wise to be nice to them. Once, my family was staying at a lodge in the mountains of Easter Oregon. There were a lot of deer around who appeared to be pretty tame. We fed them carrots and all was well for awhile, until one of the young male deer began thinking that my little sister was his girlfriend, and well, created an embarrassing scene by trying to - well - you know. It was all we could do to rescue her from the deer's clutches, of course made harder by the rest of us being doubled over, laughing hysterically.

In both cases, all's well that ends well. But the moral is if you're going to feed a deer, make sure he's all the way dead.

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