By Keith Kaniut
Episode 5 – “There’s a Deer on my Deck!”
“The Stories of Animal Control Officers Joe Tuesday and Bill Cannon”
(With a nod to Jack Web’s ‘Dragnet’ TV series…)
My partner Bill was reading at his desk while sipping milk and consuming cookies donated by our previous call’s grateful homeowner. Bill’s the new guy; all “college” but no real experience. I had assigned as professional reading the book “Best techniques for subduing a Rabid Black Bear” by Carl “Clawed-a-lot” Cassady. It starts with the basics like “…How to tell the difference between a rabid bear versus one just brushing its teeth.” Important to know.
I’m Sergeant Joe Tuesday, Senior Animal Control Officer. I run this place. These are our stories.
My phone rang. I put it on speaker phone.
“Help! It’s eating Everything!”
“Ma’am? What’s eating everything?”
“A deer!”
“Where is this ruminating cervidae?”
“At my house. On my back deck! You have to come before they’re all gone!” Her voice caught slightly. Bill heard it too.
“What’s all gone, ma’am?”
“My Hostas! My prize-winning Hostas!”
“The plantain lily?”
“Yes – of course!”
“What variety?” This was for Bill’s notes.
“It’s a new hybrid based on the “Fried Bananas” variety called ‘Fried Bananas Daquiri’. It loves the sun and smells like…”
“’Daquiris’ – Got it. Your name ma’am?”
“Oh. I’m sorry…I’m Mrs. Deidra Danforth.”
She gave me her address and we headed for the truck. On the way over we reviewed the case.
“It’s a code ‘517’. A ‘deer on the deck’…”
“I’m guessing this isn’t a common event for Animal Control?”
“It’s becoming more common kid. That’s why there’s a code for it. What else do we know Bill?”
“The Danforth’s are at 100 Devon Drive, downtown in the Dervshire Downs development. It’s known for its spacious and beautiful decks.”
“Bill, notice anything unusual about this case?”
“The fact that the deer actually climbed onto the deck or that it doesn’t seem too concerned about the irate human inside the house?”
“The first. Those hostas must be unusually delicious to our odd-toed ungulate. Regarding its lack of fear, it’s just been living in the suburbs too long where it’s only real concerns are dogs and coyotes.”
“Our plan for deer removal depends on whether it’s a buck or a doe?”
“Yep. It’s September, in the middle of rutting season. That gives us some options.”
When we arrived in front of 100 Devon Drive, Bill showed me his notes. “…deer dining on deck destroying apparently delicious Fried Banana daquiri hostas – Dervshire Downs development, 100 Devon Drive, downtown. Mrs. Daisy Danforth.” I nodded approvingly.
Mrs. Danforth greeted us at the front door. After quick introductions Bill and I split up to approach the deck from opposite sides to assess the situation. The deer was still munching the plantain lillies and gave me and Bill only a brief glance before resuming its rumination. I motioned Bill to meet me back in front where Mrs. Danforth waited.
“Ma’am, tell me what you’ve tried so far.”
“I’ve yelled, banged pans together, poked it with a broom, and even threw a telephone book at it.”
“No effect?”
“None. It just looked at me as if to say ‘Is that the best you have?’. Actually, it was. The new phone books are so small compared to the old ones.”
I nodded and turned to Bill.
“What do you we have Bill?”
“A medium-sized doe, a deer, a female deer.” He started humming an oddly familiar tune…
“No antlers. It’s not nervous. Hears and smells us but doesn’t care. Really likes those hostas. It’s masticating quite ravenously.”
“Any ideas?”
“During rutting season the does play hard to get when confronted with a buck. At least for a day or so. We could don the male deer suit and pretend to be a buck ready to rut?”
I nodded my agreement and so we did. The deer suit was like a traditional pantomime horse costume. As senior officer, I was the front legs and head. Bill took the other part.
We rounded the corner of the house in costume and I began the grunting noise that bucks use when rutting. I was also inspired to add the buck-grunt equivalent of “Hey Babe! Looking Good!”
The doe immediately froze. She stared at us briefly, appeared to sigh and then turned and jumped off the deck, disappearing into the woods.
As we removed the deer costume I commented “Mission accomplished Bill. A little anticlimactically I admit. Let’s look at the damage. Maybe we can help Mrs. Danforth avoid a repeat.”
The hostas were well-eaten. Mrs. Danforth surveyed the raised planter in horror. Only a few plants were un-nibbled.
“Mrs. Danforth, you need deer-repellent plants.” As I spoke, Bill quickly typed on his phone and then handed it to me. I read it, smiled at the kid and continued.
“I recommend foxglove, dragon weed or buck thorn. Deer won’t eat plants surrounded by these other plants. The foxglove or digitalis purpurea is a biennial and under the right conditions grows like a herbacious perennial. Be careful though. It’s toxic to dogs and cats. And toddlers.”
“Why thank you Sergeant. You Animal Control Officers are certainly knowledgeable. I’ll have to try that.”
“It’s what we do ma’am.”
Bill continued “We took an oath.”
I let it go. He’d earned it. We said our goodbyes and headed back to the station.
“Bill, good work with the Google search. Another satisfied taxpayer.”
Then we discussed the recommended techniques for subduing a rabid bear including the time-honored though generally ineffective ‘hit-it-with-a-stick’. Mr. Cassady had earned his nick name demonstrating this method’s weaknesses. Apparently the best method was to mimic the sound of the bear’s mother-in-law. It nearly always worked. Of course, you had to know the bear’s mother-in-law…
I was pleased that Bill quickly identified this flaw.
