Lopsides & Friends

Last year around this time I saw a young whitetail buck with mismatched antlers standing in my backyard. He looked brazen. So I went out there to see what he'd do, When Animals Attack fresh in my mind.

Sure enough, he gave me the fish eye, then pawed the ground. He didn't look nervous. I charged, teeth bared, my trusty hunting knife held fast in my hand, eyes fixed upon the white patch at the base of the beast's throat eased back into the house.

Last week, I pulled in to the driveway from work, got out, and had an eerie feeling. I spun and there was Lopsides, with the same cold stare, about fifteen feet behind me. His antlers were still velvety, so he wasn't quite in fighting trim. He gave an insolent little snort and walked very casually into the woods.

The other day I saw him wandering in the park, and went out with the camera. He was with the ladies, and tried to draw me off, or outflank me, or something. I took his picture.

You may have the yard, Lopsides. But I've got your soul.



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