Yesterday morning I’m sitting by the front window, drinking coffee, reading my fave online blogs when I hear the POP! POP! POP! of a repeating rifle blast. I’m used to the distant sound of gun fire but this was uneasily close to home. I look out the window and on the hill across the county road I see Bambi’s cousin limping over the crest.

I run upstairs and wake up law enforcement Hubby with my breathless, “Gun fire…close by…limping deer…” Peeking over the bed covers, eyes half open, he mutters, “As long as they aren’t firing from the roadside, they’re not doing anything wrong.”

It was Day One of New York’s rifle hunting season and I was the first victim. I’m not anti-hunting. I’m just not used to hunting ACROSS THE STREET.

I’m a suburban girl who is used to this kind of hunting:


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