I continued into town to do my errands before the shops closed, wondering along the way how the hell I'm gonna' get rid of a dead deer in my corral. I asked the barber, who advised me not to worry since the turkey vultures would probably pick the carcass clean in a matter of days...then, I'd only have to move the skeleton. I asked the optometrist, who laughed and said he'd never heard of anything like that...I invited him to come out and take a look as long as he wouldn't mind lending a hand. By the time I got to Starbucks I figured it would be fruitless to ask the baristra for advice, so I just kept my mouth shut and got my coffee to go.
On the way back up the driveway it was still hanging there. When I got back to the house I told my wife and daughter to take a look out the dining room window and they'd be able to see it through the leafless trees about a hundred yards away. We all looked for a few minutes, and my wife suggested I call the local farmer who would probably know what to do with it. I went searching for the phone book.
Suddenly, my wife screamed. She saw what appeared to be turkey vultures attacking the carcass, but she wasn't absolutely sure since the trees were blocking the view. I took a look and couldn't see any vultures, then noticed that the deer was still alive. It was probably fatigued and resting when I went by. So, with split-second thinking rivaling that of the most accomplished emergency room surgeon (ok, maybe not exactly), I grabbed a pair of cutting pliers and we jumped in the truck and raced to the rescue.
Sure enough, it was flailing away, trying to get free of the barbs on the fence wire. My daughter wanted to hold and console it. My wife was yelling for both of us not to get too near it so we wouldn't get kicked. I approached cautiously, trying to get it freed without either of us getting hurt. In about a minute was able to cut through two layers of the fence wire.
Boing...it was like the deer had been shot straight out of a giant slingshot. In two or three seconds it had streaked about fifty yards to the other side of the corral and, this time, successfully leapt over the fence. Just before disappearing into the woods, it stopped and looked back for a moment. My daughter said, "Aw, daddy, maybe it's saying thank you."
So, now in addition to being a friend, husband, father, lover, senior citizen in-waiting, gourmet cook, wine
What's that?...I hear strains of Whitney Houston singing "You are my hero..."
Ok, ok...enough. The sun is below the yardarm so it's time to start happy hour.