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Got this off another forum. It says its an actual letter from a farmer that writes. I dont know if it is true or not but it is funny.

ROPIN A DEER

I had this idea that I was going to rope a deer, put it in a stall, fatten it up on corn for a while then kill it and eat it.

The first step in this adventure was getting a deer. I figured that, since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not have much fear of me when we are there (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I'm in the back of the truck not four feet away), it should not be difficult to rope one, get up to it and toss a bag over it's head (to calm it down) then hog tie it and transport it home.

I filled the cow feeder then hid down at the end with my rope. The cattle, having seen the roping thing before stood well back. They were having no part of it. After about 20 minutes, 3 deer showed up. I picked out one, stepped out from behind the cow feeder and threw my rope. That deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold. The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell it was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation. I took a step towards it..it took a step back. I put some tension on the rope and thats when I received an education.

The first thing I learned was that,while a deer may stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, they are spurred into action when you start pulling on the rope.
That deer EXPLODED!
The second thing I learned is that pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a colt or a cow. A colt or a cow in that weight range I could fight down with a rope and with some dignity.
A deer-- no chance.

That thing ran, bucked, twisted, and pulled. There was no controlling it and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occured to me that having a deer on a rope was not nearly as good of an idea as I had orginally imagined.

The only up side to this is that deer dont have the kind of stamina as many other animals do. A breif 10 minutes later, it was tired and not as quick to jerk me off my feet when I managed to get up. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by all the blood flowing out of the big gash that was in my head. At this point I had lost my taste for cornfed venision. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of my rope.

I figured if I would just let it go it would die slow and painfully somewhere. At that time, there was no love at all between me and that deer. At that moment I hated the thing, and I would venture a guess the feeling was mutual. Despite the gash in my head and the several large knots where I had cleveraly arrested the deers momentum by bracing my head on various large rocks as it drug me ascross the ground, I could still think clearly enough to realize that there was some chance that I shared some small amount of responsibility for the situation that we were in.

I didnt want the deer to have to suffer a slow death, so I managed to get the deer lined back up in between my truck and the feeder- a little trap I set up before hand.. kind of like a squeeze shoot. I got it in there and started moving up to it to get the rope off. Did you know that deer bite?

They do!
Never in a million years would of guessed that a deer would bite someone, so I was very surprised when I reached up and the deer took hold of my wrist.
Now, when a deer bites you, its not like being bit by a horse where the horse just bite you and let go. A deer bites and shakes it head-- almost like a pitbull. They bite hard and it hurts!

The proper thing to do when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried shaking and screaming instead. My method was ineffective. It felt like the deer was biting and shaking for a couple minutes but it was probably only a couple seconds.

I, being smarter than the deer( although most of you would be questiong that claim by now) tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the tendons out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled the rope loose. That is when I got my final lesson on deer behavior for the day.

Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up on their back feet and strike right at the head and sholder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp.
I learned a long time ago when an animal -- like a horse -- strikes at you with their hooves and you cant get away easily you should make a loud noise and make an aggressive move towards the animal. This will cause them to back down a bit so you can escape.

This was not a horse. This was a deer, so obivously such trickery will not work. In the course of a millisecond I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a little girl and tried to turn and run. The reason I was always taught not to turn and run from a horse that paws at you was because that there is a good chance that it can hit you in the back of the head. Deer may not be so different from horses after all.

Besides being 3 times as strong and twice as evil, because the second I turned to run, it hit me in the back of the head and knocked me down. Now, when a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately leave. I suspect it does not recongize that the danger has passed. What they do instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head.

I finally managed to crawl under the truck and the deer went away. So now I know why people go deer hunting with a rifle and a scope-- Its to even the odds.
 

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Now that my Wife and I stopped laughing, we came to the same conclusion, It's SAFER to hunt with a firearm.
 

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Sir Loin of Beef
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That is hilarious. That is almost as good as the time my farmer Uncle handed my 12 year old city boy self a bucket and instructed me to go out in that pasture and milk that Holstien Milk cow. After a long rodeo, I walked back to the house with a half pail of milk and a few bruises, most to my ego. Uncle took the bucket from me wiping tears from his eyes and a funny look on his face. Took me a while to figure out the prank he had pulled on me. All this time I thought he was crying over the milk I spilt. He has been in heaven over 30 years but I think he is still laughing over that one. It was pay back from me locking him in the outhouse.
 

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Resident Curmudgeon
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True story. My dad was raised on a dairy farm. Mom was a city girl. After he proposed, they went down to the farm to introduce Mom to the family, all of whom lived within an hour of the farm except for Dad.

The second day of their visit, Grandpa looked at Mom and said in his usual fractured English, "You go get cows in from field, hey?"

Now, what Grandpa meant was for Mom to go out to the barn where they were brought in to be milked, open the door to the corral where the cows were held until it was their turn to get hooked up to the milking machines, take the foghorn hanging from a nail in the separator room, step outside, take a deep breath and give it a good froggy blast. The cows knew that horn meant it was milking time.

What Mom did was climb over the fence into the pasture and walk up the slope to where the cows were. She grabbed the boss cow, the one with the cowbell on a collar around her neck, and tried to turn her toward the barn.

"Come on, cow," she coaxed. "Time to get milked." The cow jerked her head loose and looked at Mom.

"Come on, cow," said Mom. Bossy justed looked at her.

So Mom started flapping the apron she'd been wearing while helping Grandma in the kitchen. "Shoo! Shoo! Get along there, cow! Shoo!"

She kept this up for about a minute with more cows just staring at her ("Gee, Mabel, what's her problem?") until she heard raucous laughter coming from the vicinity of the house. Grandpa, Uncle Mike, Grandma, Aunt Mary, Uncle Jay and Dad were in various poses of hilarity, laughing until the tears came out of their eyes. She realized she'd been had and started back down the pasture with fire in her eye. Dad took her off the hook by going and blowing the horn to bring the cows in, and she'd seen the humor of it by the time she got back to the house, but it was a long while after that before she'd have anything to do with Grandpa's cows!
 
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