Next time venison.

Dead deer 

 This is the young buck deer who got his not watching the traffic right outside the west end of town. The local kids hang out right on that turn. I figure it’s just a matter of time before one of the two-legged youngsters get it the same way the four-legged one did. Their little legs are gonna snap just like that; probably hold together inside their blue jeans, though.  Those logging trucks hit hard and don’t slow down.

This guy was hanging half in the road so I stopped quick — the blue Toyota, Miz Blue, is small enough to squeeze onto the border of the road — and hauled him into the grass. Those little rib bones wouldn’t be good for somebody’s tires.

I thought about throwing him into the back of the truck, but his eyes were looking a little too green.

He’s the first dead deer I’ve seen up here. Realized why, too — usually when somebody smacks a deer, they must hop out and throw it into the back of the truck.  Well, it seems reasonable.  Meat is meat.

Next dead deer I see up here — if ever — there’s venison on the menu. His eyes weren’t that green.

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