Copyright 2007 Cumberland Gate. All Rights Reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced in any manner without the express written permission of the author.
In consequence of the evil designs that exist in the hearts of conspiring deer herds, consider this a warning and my forewarning you to take heed and beware of the sweet innocent looking animals that roam suburban woodlands…
It seems that Bambi has taken a queue from the remnants of the Mutant Squirrel infestations of southern California. While we have slept in our complacency of being kind to our four footed friends, they have been training. Indeed, they have been preparing right under our nose, listening to the dogma of their twisted sensei as it is spewed forth in the secret dojos of the wooded places.
The glens are alive… with the silence of Ninja Deer! And they are out to get you and me… well, mostly me at this point, as I have discovered their secret. After months of planning, their assassin attempted to take me out a week ago.
I was on the way home from the office Thursday evening, February 22nd. I was rounding the bend on the service road leading from the office campus to the main road, barely 100 yards outside the wooded area the buildings are in. Suddenly, from my left out of a small stand of trees and bushes in the median leaps Ninja Deer! In an instant, there was the image of four hooves pointed right at the car, and a sneering, intent look on the chiseled jaw off this cousin of Rudolph gone bad… The next instant, a loud crashing sound as deer hits side of my beloved ‘98 Toyota Camry… Next instant my crying out “Stupid Deer!”… Final instant, my stopping the car after realizing what has happened and noticing driver side mirror is missing…
I backed up in the darkness, expecting to see a deer writhing in death throes upon the road or ground nearby. Instead, all I find is what is left of the mirror housing and the mirror and motor assembly of what used to be mounted on the outside of the vehicle’s driver side. Casting my eyes about, I saw the small squad of assassins silently bounding through the snow covered parking lots 100 yards away. It was but then that other vehicles came around the bend. On reflection, I could tell this was a perfectly planned strike by these Ninja Deer… No witnesses. But, luckily, my Cat Herder like instincts had kicked in and I didn’t even flinch, instead delivered a Toyota Sellathon Celebration ‘KEEYAH!’ right back at the assassin’s outstretched lethal weapons. The assassin left his calling card of several tufts of hair stuck in the seams around where the mirror used to be and around the driver side external door handle.
The next morning as I pulled into work in my winged ’98 Toyota Camry, I noticed a small group of three deer just inside the tree line next to the turn lane for my office building. No Ninja costumes. Of course, the deer had to take them off to maintain their secret identities now that it was daylight. They looked at me warily but stood their ground. I looked at them and stood my ground, looking to see if I could visually match up the hair strands I had found with the group of guerilla Ninja deer next to me. It was as if we were both telling each other “I’ve got my eye on you,” complete with the finger motions to the eyes.
It all makes sense now… the random attack on my sister’s van a couple years ago on the way home from church after our baby daughter’s blessing… the eating of tulip blossoms in the yard last spring… the brazen mid-morning foraging in my flower beds by the back door this past fall… the squad of deer that roam my employer’s office building campus… the nearly weekly appearance of a dead deer by the side of the road on the way to work or the ward meetinghouse since the weather turned cold… Those were, respectively: a premature assassination attempt, but on the wrong vehicle; subtle messages that they could dismember me in the dark without leaving a trace; a clear message of ‘See how close we can get to you at any time of the day?’; a recon patrol gathering intel; and ninja deer assassin trainees who had washed out of the program.
Now, I’m no hunter. Don’t even own a firearm. But I do like the taste of venison. While I have always been a supporter of the right for hunters to hunt, it has never been a thing I’ve found the need to be part of. What Bambi Ninja and the others in that sleeper cell of assassins didn’t take into account is that should the opportunity ever arise for me to join the deer hunt, I just may do it now. A bit of revenge -- sweet revenge -- may be nice, particularly if it results in a hefty supply of venison that can be served roasted, broiled, or barbecued! I mean, after all what did I ever do to tick the deer off? They’re the ones who had the nerve to do over $160 damage in parts alone to my dear Toyota Camry!
1 year ago
