This deer isn't dead. Yet. Deb took the picture two days before the start of hunting season. That dumb deer was so friendly it walked right up to us --- arms length away. Deb informs me that we need to do something to save it (scare it) so it is afraid of people and will run away and not be killed on Saturday. I jump up and down yelling and flapping my arms. Nothing. The deer just looks at me with a calm, glassy stare. Well the heck with this. I have a sidearm with me when we go into the woods. I pull out the 357 magnum and send a round into the ground just near the deer's feet. He goes dashing off, right? Nope. Zippo. He just stands there --- same empty stare. We drove off figuring that he had two more afternoons left in his young life.
