'Tis The Season

for dead animals. I'm sure that you already knew it's deer hunting season in Wisconsin.

Sometimes I think I'm the only person in Wisconsin who doesn't hunt. Hunting news is all over the papers and on the radio. At work, water cooler talk is all about deer hunting--who shot what, who knows where someone else shot what, who's not shooting anything, etc. As I sat here on the sofa staring out the window while pondering the day's tasks, my neighbor drove his red pickup covered in snow up to his house, pausing just long enough before he sped away for a young hunting gear-laden family member to leap into the truck. (Where's it snowing? It's rainy here in Madison, and not all that cold.) A gray pickup just pulled into another neighbor's driveway. My neighbor met the driver, who was carrying just a deer head, in the driveway and escorted him into the garage. (This is not an uncommon sight; my neighbor is a taxidermist.)

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against hunting or killing animals you're going to eat. (That's not entirely true, but I'll save that for another day.) Also, I do love venison, when I'm lucky enough to get some. But I don't get the appeal of sitting around for hours, days on end, usually in the cold, hoping for a chanceto kill one of these beasts.

I don't think I'll ever feel part of this particular bit of local culture.