We live on kind of the South/Central edge of town, I’d say, about as far south as you can dig a basement without being one of those swanky South Hills residents, but in town nonetheless. And these brazen bastards, who have been leaving their leavings all over the yard all year, aren’t even bothering to wait until nightfall anymore.
I won’t describe the profanity-laced tirade Julia was unleashing in this fella’s general direction while we were watching him out our window when I took these around midday. We need to prepare for them better next year, if only to not have her dragging me all over the yard, jabbing a finger at bitten-off tulips and plants, and spitting, “Deer.” Another one. “Deer!” And another. “Fucking deer!”