Frankly, My Deer

I was sitting in the kitchen window today. I wasn't really doing much, just surveying my backyard. Just one of those "nothing to do, nothing to ponder, nothing to destroy at the moment" kind of days.

At some point in my reverie, I came to the realization that something had entered my yard. Well, actually a pair of somethings. Deer to be exact. Once again, Animal Planet on the talking box thingy provided me with the identity of the strangely graceful creatures.

I sat watching them, eerily mesmerized by their silent progress as they traversed the yard on their way to the place where the two leggers put out the bird thingy baiting station. The deer seem to enjoy eating the bird thingy bait and soon emptied all the seed that the two leggers had used to attract the bird thingies. They then moved to the back of the property and vanished into the woods like wraiths in the misty afternoon.

Once they had left, it occurred to me that according to Animal Planet, deer fall under the heading of "prey". My predatory instincts should have kicked into high gear and provided me with fresh meat for dinner. I see it all the time on the talking box thingy. Felines in the wild, stalking and pouncing and generally causing havoc among the grass munchers. They chase the deer down, kill it, and then dine upon it.

Pondering this, I came upon a conundrum.

The deer in my backyard are freaking huge.

On the talking box thingy the deer to cat relative mass ratio is approximately 1 to 1.

In my backyard, the ratio is closer to 30 to 1.

This begs the questions:
Are the cats on the talking box thingy abnormally large?
Are the deer abnormally small?
Or, are the deer in my backyard simply mutants?

I decided to call a meeting to discuss this among my fellow felines. This of course was a huge waste of time that provided absolutely no useful information. Ivan, after realizing there would be no food served at this meeting simply looked confused and proceeded to lick himself. Tiger Lily contributed a high pitched whine to the discussion, for which she was promptly smacked and summarily dismissed. This amused me, but brought me no closer to enlightenment.

I realized that once again, I would have to rely on my own intellectual prowess to solve this mystery.

After much pondering, I have reached a conclusion:

I will allow the giant mutant deer in my backyard to live.

However, if you are a deer weighing less than ten pounds, and standing less than eighteen inches at the shoulder, and you happen to wander into my yard, and if I can figure out how to open the the door thingy, and if the two leggers are not watching, and if it isn't raining, and if the wind isn't blowing too hard, and if it isn't dark yet, prepare to die.

Consider yourself warned.