Karma hates hunters

I'm not trying to be grotesque, but this picture needed to be seen.

This is the deer that my boss hit with his car this afternoon; an event which, other than the inconvenience, was not a big deal. Once I found out that Lars was OK and that the deer didn't suffer very long, my mind and blogger's imagination began to wander. Here is the strange irony of this situation.

I'm a hunter...I've spent countless hours in the past 4 years sleeping on the cold ground, sneaking through the woods, hauling heavy loads over miles at a time and generally working hard to be good at my chosen pass time...I can eat a ridiculous volume of wild game meat...I saved money and Visa rewards for 18 months to buy a quality deer/elk rifle...I sacrificed other things that I wanted to obtain my cammies, boots and other apparel...and yet I only have a small 4-point buck and a single turkey to my credit.

Lars is a nearly retired foreign national who cannot even own a gun...his health precludes him from nearly all athletic activities short of moderate walking...he eats cultured meals at nice restaurants...and he plows a burgeoning 8-10 point buck (as the picture shows, the buck is still in velvet and his rack is not fully formed for the season) with his Buick - a car he was just about to get rid of - on a city street next to a Carl's Jr.

Where is the justice?