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Deer–talkSept./Oct./Nov. 2008 Humor Writing Contest WinnerYou might think that white–tailed deer are stupid creatures, but I’m here to tell you that this is not the case. I was out walking in the woods the other day, when I met a talking deer. My initial surprise was not as great as you might expect; it was only three years ago that I ran into a talking bear, in the same wooded area behind my house. For some time I had been telling my unbelieving family that there was a bear living in our woods. I had found a few claw–marked trees, and I could smell him when the wind was right. I’m pretty sure I heard him moving about in the woods a couple times, and, occasionally, I would find evidence of something else that bear do in the woods. I didn’t bother to tell my family about my actual encounter with the bear, let alone that he was a talking bear. Their earlier laughter, taunts, and jeers told me that they probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. But this was another matter. I was within eye–shot of the house, and one of my sons saw me talking to the deer. Well, he didn’t actually see the deer; but he saw me talking, there in the woods, so I expect the whole family will be interested in hearing about the conversation. They’ve asked me to wait and tell my story when we get together with a Dr. Bissell next week. I don’t know why we’re going to see him, but my wife told me that my cousin Craig, the psychiatrist, suggested that we schedule a visit with Dr. Bissell as soon as possible. Nobody said that I can’t tell you, though, and I’m dying to tell somebody, so here goes.I had just walked through the wooded ravine behind my house, and was about to round a big patch of briars, when I met the deer walking in the opposite direction. Deer: How’s it going? Me: Whoa…you can talk! Deer: Of course I can talk. All deer can talk; where have you been? Me: Sorry, I guess I should have known. I met a talking bear a few years back! Deer: Bears are idiots. Me: Well, he seemed smart enough to me. He was very courteous too. His name was Clancy…or Chauncey…or something like that. Deer: You meet a talking bear and you can’t even remember his name? Me: I was a little shocked…and scared too. Deer: His name is Chauncey; I know him…he’s an idiot. Me: Whatever. Deer: Yeah, whatever (under his breath, “ idiot”); I have to go. Me: Hey! Wait a minute! I’ve got a question I want to ask you. Deer: Shoot! Heh, heh, that’s deer humor…get it? Me: Ah…yea, I got it. Listen, are you the one who’s been eating all of my landscape plants and vegetables? Deer: Yeah, it’s me… So what? Me: Well, do you think you could leave them alone? I put a lot of time and expense into my gardening and you keep destroying all of it. It’s very disheartening. Deer: Hey man, you leave the stuff lying around. What do you expect? Me: Couldn’t you just stick to eating the plants in the woods? Deer: How’s about you eat the plants in the woods and I’ll stick to your vegetable garden. I mean, look at this stuff man! Do you know what stripping briar leaves off the plants does to my lips? Not cool when it comes time to meet the ladies! Me: I don’t know anything about that; I just wish you would stay out of my yard. Hey, while I’m thinking about it, how about you talk to your pals about staying off the roads at night, too? Deer: It’s instinct dude; we can’t help ourselves. You’ve heard of reindeer games. Right? Me: Sure! Deer: Well that’s what we’re up to when you see us on the roads. We’ve got a LOT of free time on our hands. Playing chicken with a few tons of rolling steel breaks up the monotony of a long day. We do it with trains, too, you know. Me: Deer play “reindeer” games? Deer: Let me tell you something; reindeer are idiots! Some advertising executive was writing a poem for department store Santas to hand out at Christmas, and he didn’t like the syntax when he used “ deer” games. One syllable later and credit for the game that we invented is stolen from us. We had been playing deer games for millennia before reindeer could even talk. Don’t even get me started on all that crap about flying! Me: Sorry. Deer: You know we’re responsible for most of the crop circles too, don’t you? Me: I didn’t know that. Deer: Oh yea! We get bored as hell, lying around all day, waiting for you people to go inside so we can get something to eat. The whole crop circle thing started as a way to make some room to warm up for deer games.When we saw how crazy it made all you humans, we kept it up, purely for the entertainment value. Me: Why? Deer: Dude! We’re bored! Aren’t you listening? Me: Sorry. Deer: Listen man, I’ve really gotta go. I’ll see what I can do about the games and the garden. Until then, could you spray some more of that Deer–Off on the tomatoes? Even deer like a little seasoning now and then. Later! Me: See ya…. Hey, wait a second! I didn’t get your name! He just chuckled, and muttered something under his breath as he continued to walk away. I can hardly wait to tell my family and Dr. Bissell about this when we get together next week. I wonder if the doctor will know who’s responsible for the rest of the crop circles? ©Carl Vine ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Fabricating tales, almost from the moment he began speaking, Carl Vine was humbled at an early age when told by his: – Mother You’re not that funny; Teacher – You’re not that smart; Girlfriend – You’re not that good looking; Teacher, again – Your mom is right; Dog – I’ve had better friends. Choosing to believe none of them, he bravely forged ahead to prove that he is the smartest, best looking, and funniest humor writer in his household, if not the entire universe. The dog has long since gone to dog heaven, but is remembered fondly by Vine, in spite of his hurtful words. You can enjoy more of Carl’s sometimes homespun, sometimes wry, often ridiculous, sense of humor at “Carl Vine’s 40th Parallel Universe”. To visit the site Click at Here . 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