Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Where the heck is a redneck when you need one?
10:30 AM | 
Posted by
Deanna
Last night I was on my way home from work, and I saw the most horrific sight. I saw a deer dying an agonizing death. It still brings tears to my eyes. It had been hit by a car, and was in shock. It was rolling back and forth with its neck stretched upwards for what seemed like a mile. I started freaking out, and my first instinct was to go run over it with my SUV. I didn't want to hurt it more, so I didn't. I just wanted to end the suffering.
I quickly called 911, and they put me through to the state police. I wanted them to come shoot the deer. About one mile ahead I saw the car. It wasn't smashed too badly. Everyone was OK, it was just a broken headlight.
I passed the deer again on my way back to work this morning. It was on the side of the road and beginning to bloat. Why didn't they call the game commissioner to pick up the carcass? I should have called my Dad, he would have come with his truck, shot it and taken it to the game commissioner.
My Dad can be quite the redneck. When him and my mother first split up all the screens in the house were out of the windows, and his shot guns were lined up right next to them. He was shooting groundhogs from inside the house! For the record, I don't condone shooting groundhogs for target practice. But you can't change the mind of someone on a mission to drown his sorrows and live like a bachelor. A bachelor redneck that is.
My Dad is not unusual. He is like many other of the people around here. So my question is, with all the dang rednecks around why does that poor deer have to rot on the side of the road? Someone could have fed their family for months with that meat.
Where the heck is a redneck when you need one?
I quickly called 911, and they put me through to the state police. I wanted them to come shoot the deer. About one mile ahead I saw the car. It wasn't smashed too badly. Everyone was OK, it was just a broken headlight.
I passed the deer again on my way back to work this morning. It was on the side of the road and beginning to bloat. Why didn't they call the game commissioner to pick up the carcass? I should have called my Dad, he would have come with his truck, shot it and taken it to the game commissioner.
My Dad can be quite the redneck. When him and my mother first split up all the screens in the house were out of the windows, and his shot guns were lined up right next to them. He was shooting groundhogs from inside the house! For the record, I don't condone shooting groundhogs for target practice. But you can't change the mind of someone on a mission to drown his sorrows and live like a bachelor. A bachelor redneck that is.
My Dad is not unusual. He is like many other of the people around here. So my question is, with all the dang rednecks around why does that poor deer have to rot on the side of the road? Someone could have fed their family for months with that meat.
Where the heck is a redneck when you need one?
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