Everybody loves the furry ones. They're so cuuuuute!
Cute? Yah, okay. Nuisance? Definitely.
I just do not understand how we 'city folks' (okay, suburban) have so much more trouble with wildlife than our friends in The County. Take those adorable raccoons for instance.
Last summer I realized the boys were outgrowing our little pool, and decided not to store it for another winter. Just when I was ready to post it on craigslist, two raccoons decided to use it as a playground and popped the inflatable ring around the top. (eyes roll) I have patched and I have patched... and that was the end of the pool. And if that isn't enough, apparently they have fantastically toxic poo, with millions of roundworm eggs that can survive for years in the soil. We've seen so many raccoons my yard may qualify with the EPA as a Superfund clean-up site. Fabulous.
The squirrels and birds I don't mind so much, since I don't have a garden yet. (A project for next year.) But I'm not overly fond of the Dawn Patrol, singing at 4:30a.m. every morning. Also, the squirrels do dig in my flower beds, endlessly burying and retrieving the peanuts my retired neighbors supply all year long. (Do the squirrels ever figure out that they don't have to bury them - there will be more tomorrow? Or that the jays watch them from the trees and come take nearly every nut they bury? Life has so many questions.) And the birds... good grief. If I find any more blue feathers I'll be able to reconstruct an entire Steller's Jay.
And our yard? Well. The moles are having a field day... oh, I crack myself up.
But the deer... the deer. Those long-legged scavengers. They eat my plants. Not the weeds. Only the pretty ones. Roses, impatiens, tulips, balloon flowers, Chinese lanterns, hosta, burning bush maples, and even - sob - my stargazer lily. Kerry likes to buy those. Frankly, I find them overwhelming in the house, but one year he bought me a live one, which survived nicely in the yard. It managed to escape the notice of the deer until it bloomed. It had seven enormous buds. (The operative word there being had.) Two opened and filled the yard with their glorious fragrance. For one day. That night the deer came and promptly ate the plant down to a nub. I couldn't even find it this year. Gone.
My tree-hugger neighbor would probably sigh and talk about how we've encroached on and destroyed the deer's natural habitat. (Rotten humans, you know.)
This neighborhood has been here for more than a hundred years. I have pictures. That deer has not been encroached on. We were here first. It knows a free lunch when it sees one!
All of which put me decidedly in the wrong frame of mind to re-read The Yearling. Because at the end of the book when Jody's yearling deer keeps eating their crops the minute they sprout, and he tries to build a fence (which would have to be a good 10 to 12 feet high to be any good - trust me) and is completely avoiding reality... You're supposed to get all weepy and sympathetic for him and his love for the
So there you go.
That's the way it stands between me and the deer. ;D