There’s “no cloak, no dagger,” the mayor said; as I weep over deer that are dead. A youth spots a deer hung from a tree; that’s what Oak Bay doesn’t want us to see.
Traps destroyed in Cranbrook, what corruption; no criminal activity here, no disruption. We’re fined hundreds of bucks for feeding deer; but if it’s to kill them, we’re in the clear.
Eleven deer killed, buckets of blood spilled. Our gardens were quiet, what a riot. Another deer/vehicle collision; reduce speed limits? Hard decision.
So, the SPCA has had their day; we misinterpret, but give them their say. A quarter of a million dollars spent; that’s great, no one with status will repent; though this Island’s crashed deer population cries out for habitat restoration.
And staff explain, it helps ease the pain; sending carcasses to First Nations, cementing good neighbour relations. Let them be the butchers, our hands are clean.
Hmm … raccoons and rats vandalized the traps; let’s exterminate raccoons, sight unseen. Or replace secrecy and deception with care, compassion and contraception. We’ve nothing to hide, we’re on the same side.