I took a 6-mile run through the countryside again Friday evening before heading out for a night of all-you-can-eat fish fry, a bloody mary or two (three?), and good friends. Man, I love it out here in the country. It's so peaceful, all the time. Occasionally there's traffic, but it's mostly sunsets, birds, horses in neighboring fields and wildlife.
As I was pulling out of the driveway Friday for my night of good times, I looked to my left and saw them. Deer. IN the front yard.
DEER IN THE FRONT YARD.
No, no, no.
Perhaps I've once or twice mentioned my complete irrational fear of the hoofed creatures, but in case I haven't - I have a complete irrational fear of deer. The hoofed creatures.
I suppose any normal woman would appreciate the tranquility and beauty often found in deer, but I am not normal.
That's my shocking revelation of the day.
I grew up with a deer-hunting father. I grew up with glimpses of deer carcasses and antlers and blood splatters on garage floors. That sounds a little more horror film than the reality of it, but I'm delicate. I don't easily recover from trauma. And bloody deer carcasses are traumatic.
And so now, of course, I'm also afraid of live deer because, why not?
THEY ARE TERRIFYING.
And there were two of them in my front yard. Just hanging out. Lurking. Stalking. Waiting. I admit I screamed a little on the inside, and perhaps shrieked some on the outside.
They ruined my perfect countryside. My perfect, peaceful getaway. Now that I know they're out there, I'm uneasy as I sit here in view of the picture window.
What if they are watching me? Beady eyes, knobby legs. Creepy.
But today got worse. I looked out the window into the field, and there was not one, not two, but nine deer.
I've been swarmed, and I am not OK with it.
I don't know when I'll ever step foot outside again, but I have an unfortunate feeling that it will have to be tomorrow morning so I can go to work.
Some people believe there are other things I should be more afraid of here in the country: coyotes, cougars (seriously), axe-wielding murderers, the dark.
And while I am just a wee bit afraid of the latter of that list, (hi, bogeyman!), I choose to fear deer.
And you cannot convince me otherwise.