The Smallest Minority on earth is the individual. Those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities. - Ayn Rand
I have read it 5 or 6 times and I laugh every time. Thanks for the link,
I will return the favor.
Ohmyg-d! It was the jumping up and down on him while he cried like a little girl part that did me in!
Thanks, Kevin, for a good laugh today.
The wife's side of the family use to raise some fallow deer. I can't attest to the biting, but the amazing strength and kicking I remember. They also don't have lots of stamina, but their recovery time is much faster then mine.
One time I managed to get one hog-tied. It wasn't pretty, and by the time I was rested enough to stand back up, she was free and re-energized. A kick from her wasn't nearly as strong as a horse's, (yeah, I know that too), but what she lacked in strength she made up in numbers.
My next beating of the day came after I refused to explain to the wife the large scratches on my chest and sides.
I've heard some damn funny hunting stories in my time. However, this one takes the grand prize. He got bite by a deer, how do you live that down.
I would have to pack up and move out of state if this happened in the town I grew up in. Oh, the shame and humility.
Here in Wisconsin, trapping feeding and harvesting game is prohibited. Makes the thought of eating possum (or urban racoon) far less attractive.
That's why they call them WILD animals.
Some 40 years ago my family took me and my siblings to a game ranch in NC. The deer there were so tame that I had them eating potato chips out of my hand after our picnic lunch. That was my first mistake. My second mistake was trying to hug one. Hey, I was only 7 years old! It isn't like I tried to rope one....
And I confirm that deer can rear up and kick very hard with their front hooves. And that some don't like hugs from small children.
I recall a story from a long time ago. If my memory serves me correctly, it was a short "humor" item in a Reader's Digest. Beats me, really, but I remember the story.
A hunter shot a deer, which ran around a big boulder. He jumped up onto the boulder, look down over the side, and saw it right under him. Rather than shoot it again from above, which would damage a lot of good meat, he decided to drop down onto its back, knife in hand, and cut its throat.
After the rasslin' match was over, he looked off to the side and saw another dead deer laying there, namely the one he he had shot.
If you had done that, would you tell anyone about it?
Did he not remember that both cows and horses have been bred for literally THOUSANDS of years to be domesticated animals -- and they still kick and bite?
Jesus, that's funny as hell.