It’s
official: I am a charity case. Or, rather, my gardens are. The nice woman from
Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife Conflict told me so, and she’s a Specialist. I can’t decide whether to
laugh or cry, but either way something’s got to give. Mark my words: it’s not
going to be me.
FAT & GREEDY |
I’ve
faithfully followed all nine steps of Elk Conflict Resolution: 1) Sustain
substantial elk damage to your landscaping. 2) Cry and throw things. 3) Call
everybody—and by everybody I mean people who work for Washington Department of
Fish and Wild Life. Your friends may commiserate with you, but odds are they
don’t have access to the necessary paperwork. 4) Complain. 5) Cry some more. 6) When the
F&WL officer shows up, show him/her your elk damage. 7) Repeat step four.
Possibly step two. Actually, step five might be better. Forget what I said
about repeating step two. 8) Hang the kill permit on your fridge. 9) Repeat
every thirty days. FOR FIVE YEARS.
Being
an Official Charity Case means that all my whining and crying and kvetching
have started to pay off: squeaky wheel, meet grease. A Master Hunter will be
headed my way to put the fear of firepower into my herd of complacent cows. He
will shoot---I mean HARVEST--- one of
the Destruction Derby Queens, then see that the meat is appropriately processed
and distributed using the local food bank and various churches for this
important work. So, it’s win/win. Or, rather, BANG win/win.
Lather.
Rinse. Repeat as necessary. (I may have added that part. What can I say? I’m
enthusiastic.)
Being
“gung-ho”—pardon the pun—and eager to support the elk harassment effort every
way possible, I offered to put the offender’s head on a spike and display it on
my property as a warning to other members of the Gang---I mean “Herd” to stay
away. Judging by the way the Conflict Specialist winced and shook her head that
may have been a bit much.
I still think it seems like a good idea.
Seriously, would YOU go to a Five Star Salad bar for lunch if the establishment
openly displayed the mounted heads of previous diners? Especially those who
sullied the linens and knocked over the water glasses? I wouldn’t, I don’t care
how many good reviews I’d heard.
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