As a Nova Scotian transplant, my eyes glaze over and I drool when seeing a deer, for reasons other than these starry-eyed Bambi-lovers.
In my province of origin, deer are regularly hunted, not habituated to humans, on a yearly basis by license carrying highly conscientious hunters.
These ethical hunters, if they really do not want the kill from their hunt, donate the meat to poor rural and urban families.
After receiving emails (at length) from the deer management board about having meetings about their next meetings I wonder if a visit to Belmont Park would illustrate the absoloute need for proper culling.
If you are a human being with any kind of depression, you would know all too well the value of plants and greenery as therapy. Basically, the military families living in Belmont Park cannot economically enjoy any greenery on their rented properties, so as a result they all look like penitentiaries.
A herd of recalcitrant, remorseless bucks and does continually patrol the place. What they cannot eat, they stomp down, or defecate on. When their defecation dries out on a lawn, they become dangerous-eye-injuring projectiles to the unfortunate who mows the lawn.
Please, somebody, save the humans.