Monday, September 21, 2009

Next Time Just Pass the Buck

My older brother was driving recently in his small Honda CR-V (this is important later) with his wife in the front seat and two young children in the back (kind of important later). They were about halfway through their two-hour trip when something caught his eye on the side of the road. As he got closer, he realized it was a deer huddled down in the ditch. He u-turned and saw that the deer had been hit by a car. And a normal person would call the police to get in touch with animal control. And even an abnormal person, if they have a gun, might put it out of its misery and shoot the poor animal. But my older brother is apparently neither of those types of people. Because he went to the nearest house (200 yards away) and asked if they minded if he shot the deer and took it home. Unfortunately, I wasn't there for this conversation. Because I would have paid good money to hear what the person at the door said to this weirdo asking for roadkill.

So he put the deer down and loaded it into the back of his car. Here... read that again: He put the deer down and loaded it into the back of his car (the Honda CR-V). And if it wasn’t bad enough that he was hauling a carcass in an SUV, remember that his kids were in the back seat. So they rode another hour with a deer "resting in peace" a few inches behind them. If that doesn't result in therapy, I don't know what will.

The reason I know this story at all is because I went to his house for spaghetti with my family one time. And he and his wife are the kind of people who think you can substitute deer meat for beef in any recipe. So when I realized that the meatballs tasted funny, I asked if it was deer meat. I wasn't surprised that it was deer meat, because that's not unusual for him. But when he said "it's funny you should ask..." that's when I lost my appetite.

I don't think I'll ever eat deer meat again.