As an avid gardener, I do not understand the sport of deer hunting at all. Not because I love deer, like some PETA activist. I hate deer with the fire of a thousand suns, in fact. I feel about deer the same way Mr. McGregor felt about rabbits. Every time I see one, I think “you belong in a pie.”
But I don’t understand why hunters do all the things they do.
We spend a lot of time in sporting goods stores – apart from Lowe’s, Bass Pro Shops is my favorite place to be – and I look around at all the equipment men (and maybe some adventurous women) buy to coax deer into range. They wear camouflage. They spend enormous sums of money on deer blinds. The truly committed try to conceal their own scent with deer urine. Deer urine!
Unfortunately, I have a lot of personal experience in the ways of deer. If I wanted to hunt deer, here’s how I would do it:
(1) Dress head-to-toe in pink.
(2) Spray myself liberally with perfume that has a strong hibiscus or rose scent.
(3) Sit down in an Adirondack chair in the woods, pour a cocktail, and wait for Bambi to start chewing on my hair.
You are talking about a creature that loves roses so much that they will eat them to the ground, thorns and all. You do not need to bathe in their urine to fool them. If you smelled like a rose, these dumb creatures would come sit in your lap.
It has to be the height of irony that a custom deer blind costs about as much as a gardener will happily spend to keep deer away. We need some middleman to bring these two populations of consumers together.