Gnawing On A Deer Leg

A few years ago Mark and I were on our annual Kentucky fishing trip and we decided to take a ride to find a piece of property my parents gave us that wasn’t too far from where we were staying.  We had a map and the lot number but not an actual address.  So finding the property was a bit more difficult than we thought.

As we drove down the street we passed a few empty old houses, a few fairly nice houses, a few not so nice houses, and a stretch of woods.   We knew the property had to be a part of the woods but weren’t sure where the property lines were. So my husband thought maybe a neighbor might know their lot number and we could figure where our lot was located.

My husband:  Jody, knock on the door and ask if they know their lot number.

Jody:  Why me?

My husband:  Just jump out real quick and ask.

First couple of fairly nice houses, no answer.

Husband:  Try this house.

As he pulled in the gravel drive.

Jody:  OMG no.

It was an older house that obviously hadn’t been taken care of.

And …

Umm …

J Springerish

Old abandon cars, paint chipping off the house, porch about to fall over, toys, junk, toys, garbage, toys, and a stove. And probably a refrigerator but I had to stop looking.

Very calm nice husband: Jody, run up and ask if they know their lot number. It will only take a minute.

Jody: Ohhh myyy gawddddd are you seriously crazy?

And because I’m the nice wife, I jumped out of the truck rushing to the door as fast as I could so I could get the heck out of there as fast as I could when …

Attacking 500 lb rottweiler came from the side of the house.

Then I heard a lady (J Spring guest) in short shorts, beer belly hanging from her bra-less tank top, bare feet and cigarette dangling off her fingers, yell at the 500 lb rottweiler.

I slowly started backing up to the truck when the dog dropped something near my feet and started barking. I glanced down as I quickly made it in the truck.

Not so nice wife: OHHH MYYY GAWWWDDDD. I almost got attacked. That dog could have tore me up.

I should have known J Springer Susie would have a damn attack dog. And WTF was he freaking chewing on?

Probably a person’s leg.

And it could have been my leg next.

And because I exaggerate in stressful situations, it was probably one of the big dog chew bones you could get at J Springer Susie’s local Wally.

Mean wife: What the heck was he chewing on?

And as if nothing had just happened, my husband calmly said….

A deer leg.

Mean wife: OHHH MYYY GAWWWDDDD. Take me back to the cabin right now. I need a shower. And a beer. And a cigarette.  Maybe a cigar. And vodka.

OH MY GAWWDDDD a poor little sweet baby deer leg.

I’m gonna have a nightmare tonight.

Poor little sweet baby deer leg.

And J Springer Susie is probably gonna cook the rest of the deer in a pot on the stove in the front yard like the Fatal Attraction bunny.

And what else would my hunting husband concern himself with while I’m having an attack …

I bet there’s some nice deer in those woods.

Have a good day all … and we eventually found the property down the road in the thick of the woods.

And I refuse to have a stove in my yard.

Or not wear a bra.

Tagged as: deer, deer leg, hunting, woods