Deer Me

 

A recent report issued by the Ministry of Farming and Fisheries concerning the farming of deer in the Highlands states that:

“Wherever possible, deer should be stunned before being slaughtered, and under no circumstances are they to be killed by any inhumane method such as hunting with a crossbow or culled with a sniper’s gun.”

Apparently, some farmers are allowing “sportsmen” to stalk the deer for a fee, and clearly the government disapproves. Personally, speaking as a deer, I’m chuffed.

Last week I was nosing through another government report. This one was extolling the virtues of deer meat - venison to you. Apparently we’re very low in cholesterol. Undoubtedly this is due to us still having some degree of freedom. We can run around at will up here by and large; unlike those poor sods cows who seem to spend most of their adult lives cooped up in some stinking byre having their tits squeezed. I feel even sorrier for the pigs. Pigs are wrongly branded unclean animals by Moslems, but I suppose they should be thankful for that, because at least they’re unlikely to get chopped up into sausages in Iran, Pakistan or Saudi Arabia. In Britain though all they ever give these wretched animals to eat is swill: potato peelings and shit like that. Is it any wonder that pigs and cows get so fat? So would you if you were fed on filth and never allowed to exercise properly.

I suppose that means we’re the lucky ones: you never hear of deer dying of atherosclerosis or suffering from angina. Plenty of running around and natural food, and they feed us in the winter too, so in a way we have the best of both worlds; we can forage, and eat the stuff they give us. Yes, we’re the lucky ones; they feed us, don’t fence us in too much, and kill us humanely.
“Come here, Bambi, just close your eyes, relax, and you won’t feel a thing. We’re not going to garrote you or skin you alive, just fire a bolt through your head, crush your skull and blow your fucking brains out. It’ll be all over in a jiff, and before you know it, you’ll be basting in somebody’s oven with roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding.”

Yes, that’s very humane. I’m right fucking chuffed.

[Originally published in VIRIDIAN.]

Back To Poetry Index
Back To Short Stories Index