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GUN SHY
As I am sitting here writing, I am also waiting. I’m waiting for the
Fish and Game Officer to get back to me to set up a time to meet me in
the woods to shoot the deer. The deer I stumbled upon late yesterday
afternoon, crawling, screaming, dragging its broken body through the
brush and dead leaves. I was taking my daily hike with my dog Dodger,
when while relieving myself, I heard a rustling from behind. I turned
around and saw a beautiful young doe peeking its head up out of the tall
grass and brush and looking right at me, right through me. As always,
when I am blessed with an opportunity to witness, be present for and
with grace, invited to meet a lovely, wild, non-human, I stop, I get
quiet and thank my higher power and just be. I tied my dog up who didn’t
even seem too interested. Maybe he sensed the life force was ebbing and
there was no real game going on. When I approached, I saw the carnage. I
truly froze in place. I hadn’t a clue what could cause such mutilation
this far into the woods; those grotesquely twisted limbs, the kind I’ve
only seen from car accidents. This animal was a good mile or so from the
road and not mobile, at least not now. After she realized I was no
threat as I was offering kind gestures and quiet words, we locked eyes.
In my minds eye, I told her it was going to be o.k., I will try to help
and that I loved her. She stopped thrashing about, we just talked with
our eyes. Her big round, dark, still very much alive eyes. After a few
moments of circling around her, feeling her fear, her pain, I tried my
best to softly and silently console her and I started to think, should I
kill her? No! No! was my immediate response to myself. Even in this
condition, she deserves a chance. I knew of veterinarians and wildlife
rehabilitators I could call. They’d help her. Well, it was Friday night
and after tracking down an after hours vet who directed me to the
rehabilitators contact info., it was approaching 7 p.m. when the gated
area she was in would be locked up and patrolled as it was U.S. Army
property. I had to think fast. I wish I had a gun, because I had a
strong feeling, this animal was going to continue to suffer. A gun was
quick and efficient. A rock, a burlap bag was not. So, I called the
police as the vet said the animal really needs to be euthanized. After
taking a vow of veganism over 20 years ago, I literally swore off all
forms (within my consciousness) of activities, behaviors and practices
that promote animal cruelty, directly or indirectly as I became aware of
their plight at the hands of humans. I could not at that moment,
witnessing her pain, bring myself to murder her up close with my hands
or by some force. Even if it meant putting her out of her misery. A gun
is different; clean, almost sterile; it gives you some distance and
there’s no struggle and it’s quick. I believe I could have shot her. As
it was approaching 7, I waited at the trailhead for the police to come
and close up the area. When he arrived and told me about the legalities
involved as it was not hunting season and therefore illegal to shoot a
deer, and it was Fish and Games domain, there is nothing he or I could
do. All this said as I was looking down at his holstered hand gun. He
said he would keep trying to get hold of them and give them my number.
We shared a few words and he told me, as a deer is not a priority, he
doubts I will hear from them, but he’d keep trying. I left the parking
area and went home. I spent the next few hours calling everyone I knew
who may have or know someone who has a handgun. I couldn’t see myself
toting a rifle, but a hand gun I could conceal in my back pack. No one
would ever know. I then started thinking how really handy a gun would
be.
Finally, a nice guy from fish and game called and said he would take
care of the situation. However, he is babysitting the kids tonight and
it would have to wait until the morning. I had some plans that night to
hook up with some people and teach some swing and disco dancing. I went.
I was stuck. Should I go in to the dark woods and murder this creature,
without a gun, risk not only the local police, but the state police, the
fish and game department and the United States Army as well, as it is
their property? I chose dancing. Even though I was preoccupied, sad,
stricken with the mental image of this beautiful, desperate creature of
god suffering most likely from some human action I chose to distract
myself. I got no sleep last night.
So, here I am at 10 a.m. just thinking about guns. Thinking about how
daily we are shooting people over in Iraq; and getting shot. Thinking
about the Virginia Tech Massacre a few short weeks ago. Thinking about
how in this country there are 30,000 gun deaths per year; and only 19 in
Japan. Thinking about how here we are in Keene New Hampshire, today, the
same day I want to get a gun and kill this animal, a college student
shot and injured his friend and then turned the gun on himself and is
now dead. Another young person dead.
I just got back from meeting with the fish and game officer in the
woods. A very intelligent, professional, responsible, knowledgeable and
caring gentleman. He agreed that there was no choice but shooting this
deer. He concurred that deer, especially a year and older will not
adjust even if they could be saved. I had about 15 minutes alone with
her as the officer had to return to his truck to get some ear plugs. She
didn’t thrash around, she was resigned, but still very much alert and
alive. But very damaged. We again spoke with our eyes and me with my
heart, apologizing for what happened to her and me taking so long, and
letting her know once again it’s going to be alright. The officer came,
took aim and skillfully with one shot to the brain, put her pain and her
life to an end. We took a closer look at the injuries and there were
exposed bones and organs and gaping holes in her. Definitely hit by a
car and she dragged herself a mile into the woods we agreed. We then
together dragged her a couple hundred yards away from the path, so
scavengers and coyotes could access her and feed.
As I sit here finishing up this journal entry, I am also thinking.
Thinking about not only this innocent animal, but thinking about us,
humans. Thinking about me. Is it a gun I really want or is it a way to
bring more peace and compassion to the world.? Thinking about the irony
in that I would have been able to bring more peace to her world, had I
had a gun. But then in this case, the gun was just a clean, quick,
almost sterile way to end suffering. Most often guns kill and maim and
cause undo suffering. I often ask silently and aloud the question, what
if we just stopped making them?
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