The Deer

It's been a busy few months as I've prepared "Flare" for publication (available now on Amazon in Kindle and print!) Go buy it. But I've got a quick short story for your reading pleasure! Based on a true story no less!





Nigel pulled on the arm length rubber glove over his right hand and made sure to extend it along his forearm and across his bicep. Once he was sure that he was protected from the worst of what was about to happen, he reached into his medicine bag and took out a large plastic bottle. He opened the lid and took out a red pellet that was half the size of his palm. The cow that stood in the corner of the barn mooed pitifully. It was sick, which was why Nigel was preparing to give it an enema.

 

Nigel walked over to the cow and inserted his arm into the back of the animal. It mooed louder and shuffled a little.

 

Nigel’s mobile phone chose that moment to ring. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and answered it.

“Nigel Watkins.”

“Is that Nigel Watkins? The Vet?” asked a woman on the other end.

“Yes.”

“Good. It’s Eileen O’Mahoney from the Glen Walkers.”

Nigel cursed under his breath. Eileen was a perennial thorn in his side. Her dog had gotten run over by a tractor last year and Nigel hadn’t been able to save it.

“Mrs O’Mahoney, this really isn’t a good time.”

“It’s not about the dog, though I notice you still haven’t given me a formal apology for your inability to fix poor Remington. I was on the walking trail near Robertson’s farm. There’s an injured Deer up there, I think it’s leg is broken. Take the path and you’ll see it fifteen yards past the Oak tree that fell in the storm last week.”

“Oh, OK. I’ll go up there directly.”

“Just thought you should know, Someone needs to put it out of it’s misery.”

“I will.”

Eileen hung up without so much as a “goodbye.” Nigel finished up his date with the cow and headed back to his veterinary practice in his Jeep.

 

Nigel stopped by the office to pick up a rifle and some ammunition in order to put the Deer down. It was sad but had to be done, the poor thing would never walk again. Before He left the office he made sure to call the local Guards and have one of them meet him at where Eileen said the Deer was. A Guard needed to be present when he discharged the firearm and put the animal down, it was the law. The Guard at the station answered and said they’d send a patrol car to meet him at the walking trail.

Nigel jumped in his jeep and headed for the location. A patrol car was already there when he arrived. Nigel was surprised that the Guards had made it there that quickly. Supervising the putting down of a wild animal was usually way down their list of priorities. No Guards were present. They must have already gone up the path. Nigel parked his Jeep and opened the boot to get his gun. He walked up the trail to where Eileen had said the Deer was and didn’t see anyone. It was a weekday, there weren’t any walkers out and he saw no sign of the Guards. Nigel found the animal, saw that it was still alive and waited for the Guards to arrive. After a half hour there was still no sign of them and it was starting to get windy so Nigel decided to walk back down to the cars.

 

He waited for what felt like an age and decided to take his rifle from its holdall to make sure it was in good condition. He had cleaned it a few days before but you could never be too careful with a weapon. As he checked over the gun he saw two Guards, a lanky, skinny young man and an even younger woman, approach from a field opposite. They were returning to their car. Nigel stood up straight and waved at them.

“What are you doing here?” asked the male guard as they approached.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” responded Nigel.

The two guards looked at the rifle in his hands and then stared at each other. Without a word they dashed over a hedgerow and ran away as fast as they could. Nigel was shocked:

“Come back!” He shouted. “I need to shoot this thing!”

The Guards didn’t look back but pelted across the field at top speed until they disappeared from sight over in the trees.

Nigel’s phone rang again. He answered it.

“Hello?”

“Nigel Watkins?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Sergeant O’Shea. Sorry for the delay, I’ll meet you in a half hour and you can put down the Deer. We’ve been busy today searching abandoned houses in the countryside for Marihuana growing operations. Wicklow is dirty with the feckers. Anyways I’m free now.”

“Oh, See you soon.”

“Bye now.” said the Sergeant.

Nigel sighed and looked across the fields to the forest where he was sure the two young Guards were cowering behind an Oak tree. He owed those two an apology.