When we arrived at our upstate house last week we were confronted with this doe, with a “what the hell do you think you are doing here” expression on its face. To some folks this is very cute. To Helga it is the worst kind of garden-munching vermin (“Rats on stilts” as she calls them). To me, it is an opportunity for a nice roast. The sad thing is we are overrun with them but you can’t get fresh venison for love nor money around here, other than high-priced frozen stuff from some farm in California.