To the Editor,

What’s it with these humans? After a few nights of frost they take to the woods and try to kill us all off.

My friend Rudy was killed with an arrow through his heart yesterday, why, I’ll never know. He was innocently walking across a field to look for a wife, and swish, down he went.    Myself being older,   this is my fourth season, I said to him, “Rudy, you be careful now. Those human maniacs are sneaking around the woods,   made themselves up to look like trees they did. Seems to be more of them in the morning and evening.”  I said, “Rudy, best to wait till after dark. That’s when they walk out of the woods waving those stars they carry, thrashing around like idiots. Can see em real good then.”

But you know Rudy. Young, impetuous,  got this thing that sneaks up on us every frost season, his first I’m sure. I heard two humans talking about it one day,  they call it ‘the rut’.    One said to the other, “I don’t think the bucks are in rut yet.” Now I ask you, what in tarnation is rut? I know when frost comes I like to thrash a poplar sapling now and then, getting my head-dress all shined up to go doing a little sporting myself. I might even knock a couple bucks around a bit. But if that’s what they call rut, it shows how ignorant those humans are.  I think it should be called, “da flair de coup,”  or something like that. In deer talk ‘da flair de coup, means,  Big Jack walks through meadow and field with big head-dress to attract wife by how handsome he looks.

I had my own close call once. A human holding one of them shinny sticks they carry, made a loud noise and a small stone it must have been,  went right through my ear,  almost lost my hearing over that one. I got outa there right quick. Hole never healed shut though. I gotta be careful not to get my ear caught on small branches.  

Oh ya, back to Rudy.  After that arrow hit him, he took three steps, groaned, and fell right dead.     Two humans walked up to him, one bigger and a smaller one.     The bigger one kicked Rudy a couple times. The smaller one said “He ain’t big but I recon I git him.” The bigger one said, “You sure as thunder did. Let’s throw him on the truck and go show Ma.”    Made me mad it did. I wanted to ram em both, but their scent warned me off.   Whipping the crap out of a large sapling helped some though.

Well, I’m going into the Tamarack Swamp to sit this out till those humans get done tramping through the woods like they can’t find their way home.    Maybe my Betty Bow will be waiting for me. She likes my style, I think she’s crazy about me.

Francis Seifert