Bambi must die!

You know that scene from the movie Bambi where his mother is killed.  The moment that brings tears to the eyes of kids and adults alike?  Well, that might be the best moment in modern American cinema.

Seriously folks, I hate deer.  And the list of things I hate is fairly short.  Like canned asparagus.  And The Bachelorette.  But deer are the definite headliners.

I wasn’t always this way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly not a card carrying member of PETA.  But I wasn’t always this vitriolic.  It all started last year when just a few days after planting my first garden, I discovered that a deer had completely devoured my phlox and hosta.  I was devastated!  Since then, deer have been enemy number one in my suburban neighborhood  Peter lays the fault at my feet, saying that I shouldn’t plant deer candy.  My response – deer should die!

Just last week a coworker of mine was telling me how she had discovered a dead deer in her swimming pool (and not just any deer…a baby deer…cue tearful music).  I am moderately embarrassed to say that I was actually filled with utter glee…one less deer to destroy the garden I have tended and loved (of course, a large river and a busy commuter bridge separate me from said deer, so the likelihood of that deer dining on my hostas is minimal…but it works on a symbolic level).

But perhaps karma is a cruel mistress, as they say, because not two days later I woke up to find that a pack of deer had gone at my garden like the Sunday buffet at Sizzler!  And not just the hosta!  The deer ate every single bud from my lilies, and went to town on the coneflower.  Chewed, red leaves were littered along the ground like blood spatter at a crime scene.  I was seething…and cursing…I wanted revenge!

This year has been one disaster after another.  In addition to the lilies and coneflower, the phlox met a most unfortunate end…death by gardener.  It seems the gardener mistook my budding phlox for a weed and pulled it, roots and all.  So there goes my lovely purple perennial…perhaps I should add gardeners to the list of things I hate?

There is something of a happy ending, though.  Seeing my abject despair, Peter loaded us all into the car for a trip to the nursery to replace my deer candy with deer resistant plants – astilbe, catmint, and mugwort (sounds like a cast off from Harry Potter, no?).  Nothing like a trip to the motherland to ease the pain, and $50 and 3 hours later, I felt somewhat sated.  Somewhat.  However, now I am thinking about doing some redecorating inside the house, too.  Maybe a lodge theme.  Deer head, anyone?