January Jollies

[wyntrout]

Russ Kinion

Visual Storyteller ·


A number of years ago, I had this idea that I was going to rope a deer, put it in a stall, feed it on corn for a few months, then butcher it and eat it. Yum! Corn-fed venison. The first step in this adventure was getting a deer.


Since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not have much fear of me (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck four feet away) I figured that it should not be difficult to rope one, toss a bag over its head to calm it down, then hog-tie it and transport it home.


I filled the cattle feeder and hid behind my truck with my rope. The cattle, having seen a roping or two before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it.


After 20 minutes, the deer showed up, 3 of them. I picked out the biggest one, stepped out, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold. The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell she was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation.


I took a step toward her. She took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope, and received an education. The first thing I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, it is spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.


That deer EXPLODED.


The second thing I learned is that, pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range, I could fight down with some dignity. A deer? No chance.


That thing ran and bucked, it twisted and pulled. There was no controlling that deer, and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the pasture, it occurred to me that having myself firmly attached to a deer with a rope was not such a good idea. The only upside is that they do not have much stamina.


A brief ten minutes later it was getting tired, and no longer dragging me so fast. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head.


At that point, I had lost my appetite for corn-fed venison. I hated the thing, and would hazard a guess that the feeling was mutual. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope. But if I let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slow and painful somewhere.


Despite the gash in my head, and several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer's pell-mell flight by repeatedly bracing my head against large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly just enough to recognize that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in. I didn't want the deer to suffer a slow death.


I managed to get it lined up between my truck and the feeder, a little trap I had set beforehand, like a squeeze chute. I backed it in there, and I started moving forward to get my rope back.


Did you know that deer bite? They do!


I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite, so I was very surprised when I reached up there to grab hold of that rope, and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist. Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like a horse, it does not just bite and let go. A deer bites and shakes its head, like a pit bull. They bite HARD and won't let go. It hurts!


The proper reaction when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and wrenching away. My method was ineffective. It felt like that deer bit and shook me for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds.


I, being smarter than a deer (although you may be questioning that claim by now) tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the bejesus out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose. That was when I learned my final lesson in deer behavior for the day.


Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up and strike at head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp. I learned long ago that when a horse strikes at you with its hooves and you can't get away, the best thing to do is make a loud noise and move aggressively towards the animal. This will cause it to back down a bit, so you can make your escape.


This was not a horse. This was a deer. It became obvious, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a girl and turned to run.


The reason I was always taught NOT to turn and run from a horse that strikes at you with its hooves is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer are not so different from horses after all, other than being twice as strong and three times as evil. The second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down.


When a deer attacks you and knocks you down, it does not immediately depart. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What it does instead is stomp on your back and jump up and down on you, while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head.


I finally managed to crawl under the truck, and the deer went away. Now I know why people go deer hunting with a rifle and a scope. It's so they can be somewhat equal to the prey.

[leftysixty]

Yes indeed, a lesson to be learned from someone else's mistakes

[AIRret]

Subject: Drinking With A Texas Girl

An Arab, a Mexican and a Texas girl are in the same bar.


When the Mexican finishes his beer, he throws his glass in the air, pulls out his pistol, and shoots the glass to pieces.
He says,'In Mexico, our glasses are so cheap we don't need to drink with the same one twice.'

The Arab, obviously impressed by this, drinks non-alcohol beer (cuz he's a muslim!), throws it into the air, pulls out his AK-47, and shoots the glass to pieces.
He says, 'In the Arab World we have so much sand to make glasses that we don't need to drink with the same one twice either.'

The cool Texas girl, picks up her beer, downs it in one gulp, throws the glass into the air, whips out her 45, and shoots the Mexican and the Arab.
Catching her glass, setting it on the bar, and calling for a refill, she says, 'In Texas, we have so many illegal aliens that we don't have to drink with the same ones twice.'

God Bless TEXAS