The Postal Deer
The Postal Deer
I grew up in Burlington, VT. Like any 6 year old boy I had a cork gun and a decoder ring listed in my top 10 possessions and I would cling to the old radio when it was time for the Lone Ranger.
Happily I walked down the long peaceful driveway, large snow flakes drifted down from the great gray clouds.
The nativity consisted of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus in a manger. Yes Ma, I answered.
It snowed a lot when I was a boy and we didn’t have the great snow removal systems that we have now. Sometimes we would even get snowbound, those days were really exciting.
When I finally made it down to the mailbox which stood at just by the road past the end of the long fence, I was surprised to find that a deer was making a meal out of the hay that baby Jesus lay upon. I shouted at it, and the deer ran at me. I was so frightened that I ran all the way back to the house.
Go up to your room he told me, and put on 2 or 3 of your coats and a big hat then go check the mail and see what happens. I begrudgingly did as he said.
As I awkwardly made my way back outside, with arms sticking out at almost a 90 degree angles from my body because of the many layers, I laughed at the shadow I threw on the ground. I looked like the Mitchellin Tire Guy.
The bold deer was still there munching on the manger hay, it raised it’s head and looked at me briefly then continued eating. It grunted at me as I reached for the mailbox and put the letters in then raised the flag. When I turned to leave the aggressive deer did a short mock charge just to let me know I wasn’t going to move him off that hay. I was proud that I had completed my mission without injury, I still dreaded tomorrows encounter.
Silently I stalked down the driveway like GI Joe on a covert mission I ran from one fence post to the other peering out from one to assure myself the coast was clear before sprinting to the next. All the way down the driveway my determination built and by the time I made the sanctuary of the last fence post I was ready.
The deer had been hit by the snowplow when it went by; obviously the deer hadn’t afraid of that plow either.The next year when the nativity went up I replaced the hay with a blanket.