Remarkably good penmanship - for a deer
by Andrea Mulder-Slater
From time to time, Geoff disappears on his mountain bike and heads off somewhere - into the wilderness. I used to worry but now, truthfully? Meh. Nine lives. Maybe even ten.
Meanwhile, the major highway near us has been under construction for the summer. It's being twinned. Y'know to help folks who are passing through our province get out a little bit safer. And quicker. We're coming Nova Scotia! Ready the highland dancers and save us some scallops!
This highway business has put a damper on Geoff's exploration. Where once he was able to just "hop across" the road, has been barricaded with a long stretch of deer fence. Not that the engineers haven't planned this project out exceptionally well. They have. There are gates, leading to tunnels and pathways - all designed to let Bambi and his mother (and, I suspect - ATVs) travel safely. I think they may have even pumped in some ambient moose music. It's like freakin' Disneyland for cervidae. Yeah, I used the word cervidae in a sentence. Did you read that my ninth grade science teacher? Did you?
In any case, with all the careful development, the highway builders neglected to take into account the exact location where Geoff likes to cross the road. So, my husband decided to take matters into his own hands. So to speak. His initial plan of traveling with wire cutters and short lengths of chain was quickly shot down by someone. It might have been me. So instead, he tried a different approach.
On a day, just a day quite like any other, Geoff wrote a note on a piece of paper, sealed it in a plastic baggie and attached it to the deer fence with a zip tie.
The note read:
Deer gate here please.
Signed,
A deer
And do you know what happened?
That son of a bitch got himself a deer gate, right where he asked for it.
Someone saw the note, read it, cut a hole in the fence and installed a gate. A gate!
This can only mean one thing. Either the folks working on our highway: A) Regularly communicate with one another by using notes like this; B) Have a tremendous sense of humor (and extra deer gates); or C) Think the wildlife around here are highly advanced and have decided not to question evolution.
Either way... mountain bike trails.
No, really.
From time to time, Geoff disappears on his mountain bike and heads off somewhere - into the wilderness. I used to worry but now, truthfully? Meh. Nine lives. Maybe even ten.
Meanwhile, the major highway near us has been under construction for the summer. It's being twinned. Y'know to help folks who are passing through our province get out a little bit safer. And quicker. We're coming Nova Scotia! Ready the highland dancers and save us some scallops!
This highway business has put a damper on Geoff's exploration. Where once he was able to just "hop across" the road, has been barricaded with a long stretch of deer fence. Not that the engineers haven't planned this project out exceptionally well. They have. There are gates, leading to tunnels and pathways - all designed to let Bambi and his mother (and, I suspect - ATVs) travel safely. I think they may have even pumped in some ambient moose music. It's like freakin' Disneyland for cervidae. Yeah, I used the word cervidae in a sentence. Did you read that my ninth grade science teacher? Did you?
In any case, with all the careful development, the highway builders neglected to take into account the exact location where Geoff likes to cross the road. So, my husband decided to take matters into his own hands. So to speak. His initial plan of traveling with wire cutters and short lengths of chain was quickly shot down by someone. It might have been me. So instead, he tried a different approach.
On a day, just a day quite like any other, Geoff wrote a note on a piece of paper, sealed it in a plastic baggie and attached it to the deer fence with a zip tie.
The note read:
Deer gate here please.
Signed,
A deer
And do you know what happened?
That son of a bitch got himself a deer gate, right where he asked for it.
Someone saw the note, read it, cut a hole in the fence and installed a gate. A gate!
This can only mean one thing. Either the folks working on our highway: A) Regularly communicate with one another by using notes like this; B) Have a tremendous sense of humor (and extra deer gates); or C) Think the wildlife around here are highly advanced and have decided not to question evolution.
Either way... mountain bike trails.
No, really.