During my wooded walks with Jerry and Linda, I always HAVE to be carried at a certain part of the trail. It is an area that is rife with deer. All sorts of deer. Babies, Doe's and even deer with antlers poking out of their head. Every single walk one or two deer come right up to the trail. One time when Linda was carrying me in the front pack on her bike, the brazen deer came within a few feet of her handle bars. The rude beast even stopped to stare at us. I almost peed myself. It looks like I have every reason to be scared. This week a poor man was killed dead by his pet deer. He raised the stag from a pup (or whatever baby deer are called.) Just like every other day, the 67-year old man entered the stag's pen to feed him. Instead of getting kisses and a friendly greeting, the 550-pound stag gored the man with his antlers and stabbed him to death. Just to be sure he was dead, the stag then proceeded to trample him.
