We were on patrol in Lacombe--which is pretty darn rural-- and "We" being my trainee and me, and "patrol" being the act of driving aimlessly around the deserted highways of Lacombe in an effort to kill time and stay awake. This was a night in which we were not dispatched to a single call all night. Not one. Devastatingly boring.

So, we're driving down Hwy 190, and we see a pickup coming the opposite way suddenly pull over and put on his flashers. We passed by and didn't see anything immeidately amiss, but we turned around anyway, pulled in behind him, and got out to see if anything was wrong. Turned out that he'd just hit a deer about a hundred yards back, and said deer had caused a decent amount of damage to the front of his truck. We murmured condolences to him over the damage, and then told him that we don't do accident reports for hitting wildlife and all he had to do was go through his insurance company. After making certain that the truck was still driveable (all it had was a decent-sized dent in the front and a bunch of deer fur stuck in the front license plate) he got back in his vehicle and drove off.

At which time we began looking for the deer. Took us two passes of driving along the shoulder of the road with the searchlight trained on the ditch to find it, but we eventually did--just off the side of the road in the bushes. It was dead (which relieved me, since I didn't really want to have to cut its throat to put it out of its misery, but had it still been alive I'd have had to) and not torn up at all.

So I did what any good southerner would do. I called my Lt. up to see if he knew anyone who wanted it.

Yeah yeah yeah... technically it was road kill, but it was totally fresh road kill, and about 120 pounds of it to boot. It's deer season anyway, and this poor buck was just unlucky enough to have been taken out by a Ford instead of a rifle. So while my Lt. was calling around to find someone who was willing to come out and get the carcass, I spread a drop cloth over the contents of my trunk since I didn't feel like sitting on the side of the road waiting for whichever lucky redneck got the call first. (Note: if the carcass had been at all bloody, I would NOT have put it in the trunk of my car. And No, I was not going to tie it onto the hood of my police car.) I got the plastic spread out, and Mike (the trainee) and I grabbed the deer--he had the forelegs and I had the back legs. It was a decent sized deer--it took both of us to heave it into the truck, where it landed on its back with its legs sticking straight up in the air. (In case you're wondering what people passing were thinking of this, we made sure to wait until there were no cars within sight before performing this maneuver.) Now we had the trunk of my car with a deer on its back with its legs sticking straight up. (I WISH I'd had my digital camera with me!) Finally managed to get the legs folded down enough for us to close the trunk, at which time we drove to the substation. (Lacombe is rural enough that it has its own little station--unmanned except for whoever is working the zone--namely, us.) We hauled the deer into the interrogation room and dumped it (and the plastic) onto the floor. About ten minutes later one of the search and rescue deputies shows up--and this guy is about as Pure Country as they come. Nice as can be, and nothing fake about him.

He walked in after greeting us,"How y'all doin'? [spit]" Took a look at the deer. "Thet's a nass sahz deer." Lifted up one of its hind legs. "It's gowt flays own its gohnads... havta takeem owf.. Ah'll just tek it howum and jerk thu hayhd owf. [spit]”

Translation: “That’s a nice size deer. It’s got fleas on its gonads.. have to take them off. I’ll just take it home and jerk the hide off.”

Lest you think me odd to keep a drop cloth in the trunk of my car--I do not keep one in there strictly for the purposes of wrapping carcasses. I actually keep plastic for when I have to arrest a really disgustingly filthy drunk (or one who has decided to relieve himself all over himself) to spread over the back seat before I put the arrestee back there. There are deputies who keep bodybags in the trunks of their cars so that when they encounter a freshly killed deer they can go ahead and field-dress it before bagging it up and taking it home. (Mike wanted to field-dress it, but I had no desire to wallow in deer guts while in uniform.)

And this whole incident will probably mortify the vegetarians out there... but the deer was already dead, killed in a legitimately accidental manner, and the guy who came and got it was planning on feeding his family with it. Why waste the animal’s death?

Of course I really don’t understand vegetarianism anyway.

I have also decided to follow my Mother’s lead and join the Holidailies webring--pledging to make the extremely valiant attempt to post an entry every day in December. They may not be long and involved entries, but I hope to at least post something.