THIS IS US
Why I’m Always on the Lookout for a Good Set of Deer Lungs
You never forget your first pair
In the fall, many New Englanders dress in camouflage and skip scented products like soap and deodorant. They’re getting up early to climb up into a tree with a gun or a bow in the hopes that they can shoot a deer.
I am not one of these people. But I grew up around them, so what they do kind of makes sense to me. I don’t like guns that are secretly tucked into someone’s waistband in a restaurant or carried illegally under the seat of an SUV with dark windows, but hunting rifles don’t bother me. Maybe it’s illogical, but if a lone, cold, smelly person wants to hike into the woods and sit still for nine hours in the hopes that they’ll have the chance to fire off one round, and feed their family for six months, I’m kind of okay with it.
It’s okay if you’re gasping in horror. I know some people hate hunting under any circumstance. And it’s not that I’m pro-animal-killing, it’s just that I can only get worked up about so many things.
I got my first set of deer lungs about five years ago from a student in my high school biology class. She walked into my classroom and set a red Igloo cooler down on my desk. She was poker-faced and pretended she wasn’t excited about the contents…
