A cautionary tale…bloody chronicles…call it what you will…
I am long dead, & gone.
It was a gorgeous morning. The sun rays laid golden upon crisp flora kissed by a cold autumnal night. I spent my time around a marsh tucked deep away by the grace of a densely wooded, shale cliff. I was watching a chipmunk scurrying around, when I suddenly got an acorn tooth.
You know the deep gnaw of desire you get when you just gotta have something crunchy and bitter?
I listened to some crows chasing off the pair of ravens that live in the tallest evergreen tree. I stopped to sniff a branch that was hanging down and found all the smells familiar. The chicory and cattails were ensconced in a tangle of berry bushes, vine and ferns. ‘This is fucking beautiful’, I thought, taking it all in. I grabbed at a dangling twig with my mouth, yanking a couple times, breaking a small piece off to chew as I walked. I paused for a moment, something didn’t feel right. The marsh boasted clover and mushrooms to eat, but that wouldn’t satisfy my craving. Eventually I found myself trotting along the undulating hoof marked path toward the oaks.
Flash forward- I’m munching on nuts and minding my own business when I hear a whooshing sound with the slightest whistle. In the second it takes to raise my head, I feel searing pain in my shoulder that resonates deep in my chest.
When someone punches a hole, burying a sharp steel projectile, deep in your body your flight instinct kicks in. BOOM- I’m off! I’m running while my lungs are filling with blood. It’s spurting out of my nostrils and mouth as I run. I’m breathing so hard that I must look like a crimson geyser. ‘Mother fucker’, I think. I scream in agony, truly, but my rapidly filling lungs absorb my cry into a gurgling grunt that squeaks out from my throat. My legs pump furiously, it feels like my eyeballs are going to pop out of my fucking skull! I can hear that fucker that shot me bouncing through the trees a distance behind me…the bungling oaf. I blow hard out from my nostrils trying to dislodge some of the blood. My blood pressure is dropping and now I gotta fight to stay conscious. Honestly, I can’t believe that two-legged, flat footed, fat fucker is going to be the end of me! After the life I’ve lived?? I have fathered beautiful, healthy babies. I have defended my herd, and my territory. I’ve run from all kinds of danger. Shit, there was that time I almost got hit by a truck. I’ve survived bone cold winters with snow up to my literal asshole with nothing but bark to eat- and I made it, because I am strong! I am smart!
‘This cannot be happening!’
I’d love to turn around and charge him. I’d ram my antlers right up his stinking, dimpled & pasty ass, and carry him up the ledge just to throw that fucker off! Then his realtree camo head-to-toe duds would continue to hide his decomposing body so all the foxes, coyote, & birds could gorge on his undiscovered remains.
I jump a log, weaving though birch and maple saplings. ‘Shit.’ I think I took a wrong turn. I don’t know where I am? I’m panicking. ‘Why in the hell did i have to eat acorns today?’ I stumble, my chin hits the ground. I look around as blood drips from my mouth- my favorite rubbing tree! I know where I am…I just have to make it to the hemlocks and hide there. I try to stand, and the trees spin all around me. I feel dizzy-like i am going to puke up all the berries I ate earlier. Memories flood my brain; seeing my reflection on the pond surface, eating apples at dusk with my family, when my doe was shot…the smell of her blood, fear, & piss…then, the smell of her dead body. Now I smell my own blood, my own fear, my own piss.
You call this sport? You think this is fun?
I am an unwilling participant, and you are intent on killing me.
You call this ‘controlling deer populations’?
Like I am some 4 legged, herbivorous overlord.
You want to spare me from a cruel death by starvation?
Painless my ass! This sucking chest wound is excruciating!
You lot are insane! You claim you have to put us out of the very misery you put us in when you fail to gun us down with your first shot.
Humaniac, please leave us the hell alone!
You act as though my life is invaluable just because i don’t drive a Ford, or have a career.
I am not dependent upon the raccoons in the east elm to supply me with berries.
I don’t get my grass from the fisher cats.
The beavers in the pond aren’t pharmacists.
I have no one to call when it is -20°.
I am 100% self sufficient.
I AM this earth, mother fucker!
You pricks can’t even manage your own species…
…I hope my herd will be ok without me…
…I am one of millions killed by hunters…
🅓🅘🅖 🅞🅤🅣 🅨🅞🅤🅡 🅢🅞🅤🅛