That's Not a Deer, Sir

Posted by Brenda Layman Oct 27, 2009

A local farmer told me the following tale. His buddy works at a deer tagging station. On two separate occasions, people have arrived at the station with animals they thought were deer. The first gentleman had shot a goat, and the second one had bagged someone's calf. He swears he is not making this up, and I am rather inclined to believe him. These seem like outrageous cases of mistaken identity, but to anyone who spends time with urban or suburban children, it makes sense. From a nation of people who were well acquainted with earth, woods, and water, we are now a country of television watchers. Show the average preschooler who does not live on a farm a picture of a goat, and he will identify it as a dog. He won't know what a saddle is for, and he will be unable to tell you that a male chicken is a rooster and a female pig is a sow. He does not know that hamburgers are made from the meat of cattle, or that chicken nuggets were once part of a living chicken. He does not know that a bean is a seed. He believes fervently that almost any type of flying insect will bite him or sting him, and that much of what lives outdoors is poison. He has probably never had dirt under his fingernails or skinned his knee.

Fast forward twenty years. The young man is now a adult, and he yearns to reconnect with the Great Outdoors. Inspired by hunting programs on television, he buys a shotgun and some camo gear and heads for the woods. He makes quite a ruckus as he hikes along, alerting any wild animals that might be in the area to his presence, so his chances of shooting a deer are pretty slim. At last, he spies a large, brown, four-legged creature nibbling weeds along the margin where a farmer's field meets the woods. He takes aim, fires, and watches his game drop to the ground. He has rarely seen a dead animal, and he is nearly overwhelmed by the knowledge that he has killed something. It lies on the ground, and the reality of its fur and flesh and bones and blood surprises him. He dutifully loads it onto his vehicle and drives to the tagging station, only to find that the creature he shot is not, in fact, a deer. It makes sense.

One great thing that any outdoors enthusiast can do is to introduce children to wildlife and wild places. This is a heritage that is disappearing from many segments of our society. To lose touch with the other living things on the earth with us is to lose a part of ourselves. Living in a sanitary world where food comes wrapped in plastic and resembles no living thing, we can hardly protect the natural treasures that have been entrusted to our care. Who can care deeply about mountain streams, never having waded in one? What do the fish and the frogs matter to us if we have never felt them strain against a line or listened to them calling to each other in the night? How can we preserve habitat for game birds and deer when we are hardly aware of their existence, let alone their natures and their needs?

We who love the outdoors have a solemn duty, not only to care for the natural world, but to teach those who will follow how to love it. If you have taken a child of your own, or someone elses, out to fish, or hunt, or hike, or to grow things in the earth, I commend you. Bless you for caring about the future of our children and our natural heritage.