View from the North 40: It's the same, but totally different

I don’t know if this is an east side of the Mississippi vs. west side thing, or urban vs. rural, or maybe this modern generation of deer just lost its will to be wild, but I do know that I got the raw end of the deal when it comes to deer wrangling.

A March 18 article in United Press International reported that a deer in South Bend, Indiana, got trapped in an empty backyard pool, so animal control and police officers responded to rescue the animal.

The article says that the officers caught the deer with a couple of those dog catcher poles and escorted it to the stairs, but when they released the deer it promptly jumped back into the pool. No judgment on that, fear befuddles the brain.

The officers then “tried a few other tactics” that also didn’t work. Finally — and this is where I get a little “‘Yeah, whatever,’ with your deer experience” — one officer grabbed the deer in his arms, carried it out of the pool and released it on its own recognizance. The humans high-fived.

What?

I will grant you the deer was complaining and the officer was panting, but that rescue, in no way, reflected my experience assisting in subduing and relocating a deer.

We needed two large men and a couple scrappy tweenagers to subdue a Montana deer long enough to get it tranquilized for hauling and released clear across the county.

A rural resident had managed to lure a nuisance deer into a small bull pen, so my dad, a state game warden, could transport it somewhere it couldn’t snack on expensive landscaping.

The plan, as explained by my dad, was for him to lasso the deer and his friend would step in to help hold the deer while Dad administered a tranquilizer. This part of the plan was more reasonable than it sounds in print because Dad was 6-foot-4 and unnaturally strong and athletic. His friend was 6-foot-6 and fit. The deer was a young yearling.

Once the deer was asleep, the two large adults would carry it to our Suburban and lay it in the back where it would (hopefully) stay until we reached the secondary location, got it unloaded and awakened to freedom in a new, landscaping-free environment.

My brother and I had two assignments. 1) Provide assistance where needed like fetching and toting equipment, opening and closing gates and doors and such. And 2) monitor the tranquilized deer to assure that it remained asleep for the duration of the trip.

The second point was our primary directive because the last time we transported a tranquilized animal it was a black bear in the back of the pickup with our family dog whose barking alerted us that the bear was rousing. And then there was a mad dash with lights and sirens through the middle of town with a white German shepherd and black bear looking out over the side of the pickup box, each confused as to how they got into this situation and wondering how they could bail out safely at this speed and onto pavement.

The obvious lesson learned from this was, of course, to leave the dog in the safety and comfort of our home this time, enclose the wild animal inside the vehicle with the humans, and leave the children to deal with any problems with said animal waking en route.

According to plan, Dad threw the loop and as the rope sailed through the air in slow motion, the plan quickly unravelled, forcing us to start “trying a few other tactics.”

The deer, faster than the rope, jumped from a standstill to almost clearing the 8-foot top rail of the pen. Dad, who once tried out for a professional football team, moved almost as quickly as the deer. He crossed the pen and leapt into the air, and he grabbed the deer as it was teetering over the top rail, pulling it back into the pen.

This, it should be noted, was not the first time Dad had caught a wild animal in the air, wrestled it to the ground, and then subsequently got beat up by said animal for his effort. However, on this occasion, his tall friend helped him tackle the deer and held its front legs, which were proving to be weapons of mass stomping-destruction.

My brother and I were called in to save the friend from the hind legs — weapons of mass kicking-destruction. Unskilled in the art of animal wrestling, we just grabbed on and held tight like howler monkeys grasping branches in a hurricane.

Somehow in the melee, the tranquilizer was administered and the deer relaxed to sleep.

We looked like the losing team in the championship rugby match, but we got the deer loaded and transported.

My last clear memories of the incident are these: The deer rousing in the back of the Suburban and us kids yelling for Dad to drive faster, and finally the deer walking away, while the four of us stood watching, tattered and bruised.

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The side note here is that this is what passed for good parenting at http://www.facebook.com/viewfromthenorth40 .