Not enough hunters: Deer are winning, Detroit Free Press, 10/30/22
Of course, we are. We’re sprawling through your ‘burbs, drawn to every wooded patch, every charming stream.
Of course, we are. The average hunting age creeps upward, soon to hit “take away his keys” territory. Gramps takes a slug of Bud Light, grabs a handful of Flaming Hot Cheetos. He says he’ll return to the hunt after his knee replacement, but he wants to lose 40 pounds before he goes under. His brother Joe was only in it for the “dears,” not the deer, but he’s having trouble rising to the occasion these days. Your son will never learn to shoot a gun, but he slaughters multitudes from the basement couch every day. P-few! P-few! P-few! Your daughter has sworn off meat again. Your mother finds us “gamy.”
And you, of course, are too busy with your garden. Sorry that you had to drop out of the tour this year. For next year, we’d love more of those pansies. And those Dahlias were to die for...