Euclid, OH -- Dorothy Richardson loves gardening. Her flower beds kick the ass of every other flower bed in dazzling greater Euclid. So one day, when the frail 75-year-old woman was greeted with the sight of a cute fawn sitting in the midst of her pansies and gladiolas, what do you suppose she did?
Why, she grabbed a shovel and beat bambi 'til he was dead, that's what.
So now, natch, every hippy animal hugger from the redwood forest to the gulf stream waters is offering to return the favor. She's been charged with animal cruelty and could face 18 months in prison (coincidentally, the same maximum term faced by a certain wig-wearing child porn purveyor named Vance Fulkerson).
As one might imagine, we have some stuff to say about that.
While bludgeoning a fawn until its brains are splattered amongst one's petunias might sound a wee bit harsh, we are not without our sympathies. One puts down bulbs and spreads excelsior in the autumn, mulches, seeds, and fertilizes in the spring, composts, weeds, and waters almost daily in the summer, all so one's neighbors will turn green with envy at the sight of our floral display. It was neglectful of that thoughtless doe to leave her baby sitting provocatively amid your prize-winning snapdragons while she foraged for food. We suspect, at the sight of it, a toxic cocktail of geritol and metamucil kicked in, causing momentary homicidal dementia. It wasn't until later, we're certain, when your arms cramped and bits of fawn skull shrapnel had peppered your trellis of morning glories, that you came to and realized the extent of the carnage you'd wrought.
The thing is, oldsters are wont to hack wildlife to death with shovels. To them, it's as satisfying as shuffle-board or mah-jong. Take for instance our own Auntie Magnolia, who once shovel-bludgeoned a cottonmouth water moccasin to death in our horrified presence. Sure, there are those of us who might be charmed by the appearance of a fawn. They might even take a picture and post it on their insufferable blog. But they don't understand that if you'd wanted any fauna cluttering up your flora, you'd have purchased a plastic flamingo or a lawn jockey and be done with it.
And now, those rude prosecutors are trying to send you to granny jail, where presumably your cell won't be festooned with a window box of forget-me-nots. But fret not, for we suspect that as soon as word spreads that a bitch will beat bambi with a spade til its legs stop twitching, you'll be given wide berth and substantial cred. Not only that, we're rather certain your garden will be doing quite well once you're released; fawn brains are likely a FABULOUS fertilizer.
Dorothy Richardson sez: "Subscribe to this blog's feed, or I'll go after Thumper."