Tag Archives: deer season

Road Rumble: Deer v Infiniti

BambiDeer Season everywhere pretty much starts the middle of November. There are strict dates on when you can hunt deer with a bow, firearms, muzzle loaders, light sabers, the power of your mind. But when is sports car season for deers? I found nothing on the guidelines for taking out a deer with an Infiniti G37. Fortunately, since I failed to bag my fawn-faced hood ornament, there is, at least, no fear of a poaching fine. An insurance claim, however, is another story.

Honestly, I’m not sure if I hit Bambi or if Bambi ran into me. I was making a run to the local, small airport at the freezing cold butt crack of dawn and driving along a dark rural road, not even doing the speed limit which is nearly unheard of for me. When out of the corn field alongside the road jumps Bambi and his mother! Geez, can we not get reflectors tagged on these animals?!

I stood on the brakes. Bambi stood on the hooves. Momma deer leaped on across to safety and Bambi hit reverse. But my fender hit his fender and he took off my passenger side mirror. He ran off; I drove off. I pooped my pants; he pooped in the woods. We’ll both likely be fine. The car can be fixed.

So like a good neighbor, State Farm is there. Again. I think my long-suffering agent cringes every time my number comes up on the caller ID at his office. As long as the deer doesn’t file a claim against my policy, my deductible isn’t too bad. Not that Bambi would have much trouble finding me since my license plate is probably imprinted on his butt. And if he pursues it, I’ll happily pay his vet bills and he can pay for the overpriced body shop that works only on specialty imports.

Meanwhile, I’ll put the car in the shop, cruise around in a conservative, rental sedan with added safety features, and stock up on those worthless whistle things that are supposed to scare animals away from your car (I already know the research says they don’t work). Hopefully, though, this is will be the last time the local wildlife and I go antler to engine. Otherwise, I’ll have to see if there’s an after-market cattle guard for my little hot rod.

1 Comment

Filed under From the Snow Drift

If you feed them, they will come…

cartoon-deer-8In 1890 researcher Ivan Pavlov was furiously working his way to a Nobel Prize for his work on the digestive system. There by his side was his faithful, loyal dog happily slobbering away on cue every time he thought it was dinner time. As a result Pavlov discovered that you could condition people and animals to react the same way to the same stimulus. He’d ring a bell and Rover would drool all over himself knowing that Puppy Chow was about to hit the bowl.

I imagine it didn’t take Pavlov too long to realize what a little monster he’d created with that trick. The door bell rings, Rover slobbers. The phone rings, Rover slobbers. Microwave dings because the popcorn is ready, there goes Rover needing to have his doggy face wiped again.

Let’s jump ahead a hundred plus years to today. Deer season is opening. Here is a group of people who have benefited from Mr. Pavlov like few others. If Pavlov had taken his Nobel Prize money and plugged it into a deer feeder business, he’d still be topping the lists of the riches guys ever to walk upright. He was probably just too busy cleaning up the puppy drool to do that.

But someone did. And now deer hunters are about to reap the rewards of training deer to respond. For the past months, they have fed the dog – err, deer – trained the dog, I mean deer, and now will shoot the deer when he shows up for his deer chow.

Now before you come down out of your deer stand to send me hate mail, first unload the rifle! And understand that I’m certainly not against hunting. Personally I love Elmer Fudd tiptoeing through the forest trying to “kill the wabbit!” I have never once turned down venison or pheasant brought back by my hunter friends, although after this blog posting I may not have a hunter friend to speak of, but that’s for another day. I just think that there’s a difference between hunting and trapping.

So all I can say about this is, “Run, Bambi! Man is in the Forest!”

1 Comment

Filed under Much Ado About Nothing