I don’t really mind deer hunting all that much. In fact, if it came down to a question of survival between me and Bambi…sorry ‘bout yer spot in the food chain, l’il buddy, but I have opposable thumbs and good aim. I appreciate the skill necessary. I even understand deer overpopulation is a huge problem for people and deer alike, so responsible, ethical hunting is necessary and good. ….
But…
I have had it up to my over-developed Id with all the bragging, status updates, front page newspaper pics, etc. about the big buck that just got itself bagged. Ever had the uncomfortable “Where meat comes from” discussion with a 6 year-old when they realize beef = cow? Now imagine a similar convo when your soft-hearted kiddo (and almost all of them are) sees Bambi’s mommy field dressed in the back of a blood-drenched, seeping pickup, tongue awkwardly drifting out of the mouth as you wait behind it for a McD’s Happy Meal…or when a smiley bohunk poses next to Dancer on the front page of your local daily.
For fuck’s sake, here’s what your *aherm* “accomplishment” as heap-big hunter tells me about you: you’ve spent hundreds - if not thousands - of dollars on equipment, then waited hours and hours hidden way up a tree (usually) in freezing weather at 5am (or earlier) to wait for something that has a brain the size of a child’s fist to just wander on by….
Bra-fucking-VO!
Meanwhile, I can go to the store and buy food. Ya won’t see me with veggie burgers tied to my hood or a gallon of milk mounted and displayed on my wall….
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