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Yes deer, no deer

chigger

Well, once again it's deer hunting season here in the country so I thought I'd express some more thoughts on the subject. I realize that last month, when I recited that joke about the Muslim, the Christian and the deer going into a bar, some of you accused me of deerophobia, but to that all I can say is lighten up, it was a joke. Racy? Yes. Off-color? Yes. Scatological? Well, a bit. But all the same, it was just a joke and funnier than "h" "e" double-toothpicks. So chill. I'm a dog. Learn to live with it. I'm gonna be dead relatively soon in human years anyway. Save your hate mail for where it can make a difference.

Now don't get me wrong. I enjoy a choice, Grade-A two-week-old chunk of rotting deer carcass as much as the next dog. The aroma alone is to die for. But when it comes to having a philosophical position on an official season specifically designated for the hunting of such antlered creatures, well, all I can say is that I'm a herder not a hunter. So I asked Woody, who's more of a hunter by genetic pre-disposition, to explain the rationale to me.

As you might imagine, I first had to sit through a long harangue about how having any official period when he could NOT hunt deer or any other d*** thing he was interested in killing and eating, or just killing, or even just chasing with intent to do bodily harm, was a violation of his constipational rights and how could any meat-loving dog (referring to me) think otherwise without being a total hippopotamus. There was also something about a treaty, but I slept through most of this, so pardon me if some of it all doesn't sound right.

But after the initial rant, his argument began taking on more substance.

Woody noted that long before bipeds had a deer hunting season, our great, great, great, great, great, great, etc. (I lost count) grandfathers the wolves used to roam the woods and keep the deer population healthy by keeping the size of the deer herds in proportion to the resources available to them. This promoted a healthy ecosystem and historical records show that back in the day there were very few reports of deer vandalizing human gardens.

[Note: At this point in the discussion I pointed out to Woody that our great, great, great, great, great, great, etc. (I lost count) grandfathers the wolves always killed the weakest of the deer population and thus strengthened the genetics of the herd, whereas human hunters tend to only kill the biggest and brightest of the herd, eschewing killing the weak and infirm as "not macho enough," therefore slowly reducing the quality of the species, to which Woody replied, "Duh. That's what happens when you give a job to an immigrant. And it's also why deer are so dumb these days."]

Anyway, some time in the late Domesticated Chicken era, our great, great, great, great, great, great, etc. (I lost count) grandfathers the wolves ran into a bit of a conflict-of-interest crisis and soon found themselves forced to survive by moving to isolated regions of the world full of snow where they could make a living as actors in documentary movies done by hirsute young men in big shoes for the Discovery Channel. Granted, having sex in front of a camera is both intimidating and embarrassing, but as everybody knows, reality TV is big these days, and it can often be a stepping stone to bigger and better things.

But I digress.

The point that Woody was begrudgingly making was that the ecosystem needed a hunting season for deer because without the wolf, the deer population was growing increasingly unhealthy. Many environmental-activist humans tried to address this crisis by attacking deer with their cars, pick-ups and SUVs, but so few deer ever graze on the freeway that it wasn't producing the desired result, plus it was having an adverse effect on car insurance.

The next logical step was to institute a formal season for reducing the deer population. The various state legislative bodies had two choices. They could establish a deer-hunting season for dogs, or they could establish a deer-hunting season for humans. And as historians have noted, the decision hinged on the economy. If they established a deer hunting season for dogs, then dogs would go out and kill deer and that would be that. But if they established a deer hunting season for humans, then it would provide a economic boost to a significant part of the human pocketbook.

For starters, there's the obvious. You gotta buy a license to try to kill a deer, and you gotta pay fees if you actually succeed. (That's the part that supports your local politician's junkets.) Then you have to buy a pick-up-load of guns and ammunition. And a pick-up or SUV to put them in. You also gotta rent land to hunt on, and you gotta buy a deer stand or two or three at a couple hundred dollars a pop to sit in where the deer can't see you, and you gotta spend a fortune on deer food to attract the deer and you gotta buy camouflage clothing in a variety of seasonal motifs to hide yourself from the deer and then you have to buy a bright orange hat or vest to make sure you don't shoot each other. And if and when you finally manage to kill a deer, you pay someone to mount the antlers and butcher the meat.

And of course if you don't actually live in a deer-populated area, then there's the whole cost of travel, motel, and booze that has to be considered.

So, as became quite apparent to me, and should to you also, we should not scoff at those who strive to keep our deer population healthy. Their huge sacrifices often end up costing them $50-75 for a pound for meat, money that could easily buy them far greater quantities of choice filet mignon if all they cared about was food, and yet they persevere because it's worth it from an environmental standpoint.

However, unfortunately for me, this was all supposed to be a lead-in for a whole different point I wanted to make. But that will have to wait for next time, whenever that is.

Comments

I'm not aloud to hunt. pah.

Blog Dogs in Heaven

I just wanted to check in, so I picked this post. Sorry guys. This is my last post, not that I was a major blogger. This is because when you go to dog heaven they only give you one blog or phone call (your choice). Last Saturday I got real sick, real fast. I couldn't breath hardly at all, and walking anywhere was a drag. Bill, my master (a good guy, all in all) took me to the dreaded vets. They said I had a rare desease. But rare or no, there was nothing they could do given my age (13) and my condition. Anyway we all decided it was time to get the express to dog heaven. So here I am.

Before I tell you how it is, I would like to say a bit about what I miss. I miss Bill and Carla a lot. They were pretty good to me, to a fault. I was incredibly spoiled and I had them totally wrapped around my paw. I'm sure they have no idea what to do with themselves now that I'm not manipulating them 24/7. I miss the snow too. That's cause I'm a winter dog and sitting on a snow mound in 5 degree weather is my idea of a good time. I also miss messing with the two oar durves (2 shrimpy dogs that live next door) on my morning walk. They would come charging and I would just lift and piss. The more they yapped, the more lifting I did. I can't tell you how great it was to start the day by driving those two crazy.

Now, a bit about dog heaven. Actually it is an exact replica of Golden Gate Park without the buildings and the people. And its all dogs all the time. I used to be a crab with other dogs down there in the material world but here we get along just fine. The food is great -- all you do is imagine something good to eat and it manifests. The great thing is there is no pooping. We still do lots of pissing though, cause its important to keep your territories straight. I'm pretty new here so I haven't figured everything out, but the one thing that is for sure is that I'm comming back. I thought there might be something to the idea of inter-species reincarnation but at the orientation they put that one to bed right away. "Once a dog, always a dog," they said, and "be happy for it too!" Well I am happy. I like this place for as long as I get to hang out and when I re-launch I'll be happy to get back to poopin' too. Take it easy all you blog dogs out there. It was good to know you.

Love, Trooper

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