Friday, October 27, 2017

Charity Begins at Home

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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