Posted on 11/02/2005 11:16:19 AM PST by areafiftyone
For 40 exhausting minutes, Wayne Goldsberry battled a buck with his bare hands in his daughter’s bedroom in Arkansas, USA.
Goldsberry finally subdued the five-point whitetail deer that crashed through a bedroom window at his daughter’s home.
When it was over, blood splattered the walls and the deer lay dead on the bedroom floor, its neck broken.
Goldsberry was at his daughter’s home when he heard glass breaking. He went back to check on the noise and found the deer.
“I was peeking around the corner when the deer came out of the bedroom,” said Goldsberry. The deer ran down the hall and into the master bedroom - “jumping back and forth across the bed.”
Goldsberry entered the bedroom to confront the deer and, after a brief struggle, emerged to tell his wife to call police.
After returning to the bedroom, the fight continued. Goldsberry finally was able to grip the animal and twist its neck, killing it.
Goldsberry, sore from the struggle, dragged the dead animal out of the house.
“He got kicked several times. He was walking bowlegged for a while,” Deputy Doug Gay said.
I hope all moose staff are paid prevailing union wages and their children provided with free education.
BTW, I see a writer inside of you screaming for his freedom. If you ever decide to author a "sardonic" writing thread, I insist on being first on the ping list. That is all . . . carry on.
Sad part about that story is that the guy is in one of the fanciest neighborhoods in San Diego, near where Bill Gates, John Moores, and such live, inside a gated community, and he goes out to do some gardening, and he gets killed by a deer. Of all the things to worry about, that was one that had never crossed my mind.
'Tiz a bit more sporting than a .308
Come on, how often do you get to deer wrestle in the safety of your own bedroom?
shot one from a hot tub last year, does that count?
was going for the record for ultimate in hunting comfort.
I really do feel awful for the guy, and I'd hate to think a loved one would see this as making light of his situation, but one thought runs through my mind:
"Paging Alannis Morissette. Alannis Morisette to the white courtesy phone." (IOW, Now THAT'S Ironic.)
OMG i heard it years ago and forgot how hilarious it was. i just laughed myself sick!
>>That buck had no WMD.
The doe disagrees.
Or a mastadon.
Me too! I went elk hunting two weeks ago and saw nothing but deer. (five yearlings) I went deer hunting last week and saw three elk! (one week out of season)
The link was great but was it for real?
That reminds me of the old Woody Allen skit ...
Comedian Woody Allen's famous moose monologue from the 1960s:
Here's a story you're not going to believe. I shot a moose once. I was hunting in upstate New York and I shot a moose.
And I strap him onto the fender of my car, and I'm driving along the West Side Highway. But what I don't realize was that the bullet did not penetrate the moose. It just creased his scalp, knocking him unconscious. And I'm driving through the Holland Tunnel and the moose wakes up.
So I'm driving with a live moose on my fender and the moose is signaling for a turn. And there's a law in New York State against driving with a conscious moose on your fender, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. And I'm very panicky. And then it hits me — some friends of mine are having a costume party. It won't be my responsibility. So I drive up to the party and I knock on the door and the moose is next to me. My host comes to the door. I say, "Hello, you know the Solomons." We enter. The moose mingles. Did very well. Scored. Some guy was trying to sell him insurance for an hour and a half.
Twelve o'clock comes, they give out prizes for the best costume of the night. First prize goes to the Berkowitzes, a married couple dressed as a moose. The moose comes in second. The moose is furious. He and the Berkowitzes lock antlers in the living room. They knock each other unconscious. Now, I figure, here's my chance. I grab the moose, strap him on my fender, and shoot back to the woods. But I've got the Berkowitzes.
So I'm driving along with two Jewish people on my fender. And there's a law in New York State. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and especially Saturday.
The following morning, the Berkowitzes wake up in the woods in a moose suit. Mr. Berkowitz is shot, stuffed, and mounted at the New York Athletic Club. And the joke is on them, 'cause it's restricted.
Ummmm, why did he go back in????
I was wondering the same thing. Maybe he left his wallet in there and was worried the deer would steal his credit cards.
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