I don't much like deer. Most country people don't, I guess. Deer are like rats: A nuisance. Pests. Eating the hay; eating the orchard; eating the garden; jumping out into the road at all hours—broken headlights and dented fenders. City people, on the other hand, like to look at deer: Jerk their eyes away from the TV, see a deer out the window. Awesome! "I saw Dancing With the Stars and Bambi in the same evening."
Anyway, I think the best way to see deer is to feed them. This little herd, in a rural development for Las Vegas people on the Markagunt Plateau, seemed to think that I might have a head of lettuce to distribute. "Sorry. I'm simply here to load some firewood. Whoever has been feeding you is in 'the cabin,' watching TV. Now, go away."
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