Admitting Weakness

Lately I've been posting a lot of deer pictures taken either on my way to work in the morning, or on the way home, usually late into the evening.  You may think it is just because wildlife interests me, and that would be partly true.  The whole truth is, I'm torturing my followers who are hunters.  

At work, Lake, or John, or Angela, or Tim will ask how my day is going.  I'll tell them about the big buck I saw, or the twin fawns, or the three or four does, and I'll see eyes glaze over.  Tongues snake out and swipe lips, trigger fingers begin to twitch.

"Yeah," I'll say, "you can see it on my blog.  I posted pictures."

The next day they'll sidle up and ask if I have a landowner tag.

I just shake my head and tell them about the young buck I saw that day, much younger than the big one I saw the day before.

"Where do you live?"

I'll just smile.

Come hunting season, I'll usually have two or three hunters offer to come fix something at my house.  Phffft.  I know the real reason they are offering.

They can't have my deer.

I'll probably still continue to torture them. It is a weakness.  I admit it.

Is it too mean?

Schooner

Schooner is a hunter, too.  I know because he opens my drawers and cabinets to hunt through them.