ninja deer

For weeks we've been looking forward to this past Friday when Bratley and Tammy would arrive to spend the weekend with us on the boat. I phoned him Thursday evening as he was driving home from a factory tour in Kentucky with one of his dentist clients to make sure he remembered the schedule, so when the phone rang early Friday morning I figured he was calling to tell me they were on their way.

But the news was the schedule had changed and he was going to be several hours late because he had gone deer hunting the night before. He had some things to do before they left.

As I administered an imaginary thrashing upon my brother--the preferred method I had employed during in childhood to communicate to him my dissatisfaction with his behaviour--he cheerfully asked if I wanted to buy some cute little deer antlers. I responded with something along the lines of him being an compete idiot, followed by a demand to know why for the love of God he'd decided to take up deer hunting on the very night he should have been home packing.

His response was to helpfully inquire if I wanted him to bring deer meat for weekend grilling and an offer to throw into the deal two deer eyeballs about as big as saucers. I responded with something along the lines of him being in desperate, desperate need of a thorough psychiatric evaluation.

Finally, after wasting more of my time and patience he explained he'd hit a deer with his car the night before and needed to file the insurance report and drop the car off at the repair shop before he left town. And not that I don't take everything Brad says as gospel truth, he offered to email me photos to prove it:



He assured me it was not an ordinary deer, but a Ninja deer that one moment was nowhere near the road and a nanosecond later transported itself right in the middle of the road where it richoted off his fender and bounced down the entire passenger side of his car.

That deer was fast, he said, but not fast enough.

I immediately made a snarky remarked about him brutally murdering Bambi in cold blood expressed my deep condolences over the damage to his car.


And it was right then that I noticed some writing in that last photo. So I zoomed in to see it better:

My brother needs meds. Seriously, seriously strong meds.