NO DEER FOR OLD MEN

   Today Savage, Bird and I hunted Bird's Preserve. But not before I went to the eye doctor to see if a contact lens would fix my blurry peeper. No such luck. It only made it worse. When I asked the young female doctor if this was going to be a permanent problem she said it may take some time for the brain to compensate for the problem. That seems a bit much to ask of my drug-addled brain. It's gone through a lot. Plus isn't that like asking your car's computer to fix the wonky transmission. Eye problems aside we hit the woods about 1:30 PM. 

    About 2:00 I saw something running through the woods. It was small and fast. At first I thought it was a coyote, but it had longer legs and no bushy tail. When it disappeared a white tail went up. It was about the size of a spotted fawn but way too late for that be a possibility. A chupacabra? I was stumped. Savage and I are now ready to take does. Bird is holding out still hoping to get on a shooter. The afternoon drug on. No shots.

    Then about 4:25 I finally saw a deer. Two yearlings moved into an opening 125 yards to my left. Too small and too far for a shot this late. But they kept fidgeting and looking back into the woods. Suddenly one jumped and they both took off. All I could see was a tail in the woods chasing them in parallel. I'm sure it was a buck. At dark we gathered for drinks and pizza. Bird could've had a shot at does and didn't take it. Savage and I had no shots. Empty handed again. Nothing new. Savage said the chupacabra sounded like a bobcat. That was more likely. I drove home and looked forward to snuggling Cheeky and telling him about my day and the bobcat. I walked in the kitchen and called his name "Cheeky....." Nothing. No running to meet me or meows. He must be asleep. "CHEEEEEKY....." I called again louder. He wasn't sprawled on the back of the couch or curled in his favorite chair or snuggled in the wood box. Maybe he was in my bed. I climbed the loft ladder and tossed the covers. Huh? No Cheeky. What the fuck?

     I know many think I am a cold-hearted bastard incapable of feeling anything close to concern or love for another living being, but you are wrong. I called Shewho, not to express my undying love but to moan, "Cheeky's missing." in a panic. "I left him here this morning. Somebody must've....I don't know.....come in the house and he got out....it's fucking cold out.....what am I to......" At the same time I'm wondering  could one of my enemies (I have many) stolen Cheeky and at that very moment were.....? Then I heard the cat door flap. It was Cheeky. He had no explanation. Shewho said later that she never heard me sound so tender as I welcomed Cheeky home safe and sound. Now that I'm shooting does hopefully tomorrow I will kill Bambi's mother (without rancor) and lock the door so nobody can steal Cheeky. It's 11:00 pm. Do you know when your pussy is?