Open Letter: Homophone Edition

Dear Deer,

The truth is that I like you. I do. When my daughter claimed on the week that we moved here that she saw some of your type running around the neighborhood, I did not doubt her. She has her shortcomings but taxonomy is usually not one of them. However, as long months passed and I saw no sign of you, I did somewhat wonder about her sighting.

Tonight when you suddenly appeared while I was out on my dog walk, I was a little startled. I am not sure why I would be. Having deer suddenly wandering across the path that runs along our backyard and through our neighborhood while I am walking 70 pounds of muscle, prey drive, and energy on a leash held by a sore hand, attached to a sore arm, attached to a sore shoulder, chest, back, and neck is really the exact sort of “Fuck You” I should expect from the universe at this point.

So, my dear deer, when I say please go the fuck away, try not to take it too personally. Also, come back in about two weeks.


deep breaths
just call me hostile

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