The Paper 032714

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Volume 44 - No. 13

by Kent Ballard

My dogs are continually dragging deer bones into the yard. This has gone on pretty much since we lived here and had dogs.

I expected this during hunting season, but not all year round. Sure, some of the bones are old, but some are not. They also drag hides and portions of hides up too. If I'd saved them all, I could have made a goodsized Indian tipi out of them by now. They bring these home too, 12 months out of the year. Obviously, there's a lot of poaching going on around here.

I have never poached an animal out of season, and took a very dim view of those who did. But that was a long time ago, before my city attitude changed and I saw the light about how things work out here in the boondocks.

As I've mentioned before, this is a poor county. Anyone with any money works far away and commutes, like I did. But still there are a great many rural poor around these parts, and there are families that would not have meat on their dinner table without taking a deer now and then when no one is looking. The first summer I The Paper - 760.747.7119

website:www.thecommunitypaper.com

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March 27, 2014

lived here I found evidence that someone had shot a deer on the far western edge of my property. I was out wandering around, still learning the place, all the hills and hollers, and how to find my way back to the house from them. Seriously, it wasn't easy at first. But I came upon a scene in the forest where a deer had obviously been shot. There was a blood trail and drag marks in the leaves and weeds. I followed them until they left my property. The trail continued over the rusty and brokendown old fence. I hopped it and kept following. It ended at the back yard of some neighbors-who I did not know at the time-and it was evident they were the guilty party.

I was furious. I was going to call the sheriff's office and report them, then remembered that under Indiana law, a state DNR Conservation Officer actually has more intrusive power than a sheriff or deputy. They can walk right into your home without a warrant under our law. They cannot look under beds or in closets, they cannot touch any of your electronics or anything else, but they do have the legal right to look in your freezer in the kitchen and take a quick, cur-

sory look around for another freezer, say, a big chest freezer in your basement. They can look in them, see how much deer meat you have on hand, and radio their office to see if you legally bagged two or three deer last season. If they find the meat and you haven't checked in a deer at one of their check-in stations, the meat is confiscated and given to charity and food banks, and your sorry butt is cuffed, stuck in the back of their Jeeps, and hauled off to jail. If you're caught poaching out in the woods by a C.O., they can also confiscate your firearm AND the vehicle you are driving. The judge generally imposes a pretty harsh fine when you're stood up before him, too. These laws vary a little from state to state in the wild, wild, Midwest, but they all work out about the same way. Deer poaching is a serious offense, and God help you if you're caught shooting at one from inside your car or truck stopped along the road. They drop a house on you then, and confiscate everything (and you will NOT get any of it back), and they don't put you IN jail, they put you UNDER the jail.

I was gonna teach this guy a lesson about poaching AND trespassing on my land.

But I was still new in these parts. I could look in the phone book and get the number for the sheriff, but couldn't find one for the local Conservation Officer. So I hopped in the truck and drove to the one man I trusted most in this strange new world by beloved old neighbor Steve Walk. Steve was a hillbilly's hillbilly, born in West Virginia, older than dirt, knew everyone for miles around, and over the years I came to realize he was also one of the most intelligent, wise, and practical men I had ever had the good fortune to meet. When I sat down in his kitchen, he could tell I was angry. I told him what I'd found and where the trail led to. I told him that I was going to ruin that guy's whole year. So--how do I call a C.O. out here? I was going to make life very, very problematic for that trespassing and poaching SOB.

Steve quietly listened to my rant, and began to pretend he was looking through some paperwork for the C.O.'s phone number. While he did so, he began talking about folks who where having trouble making ends meet. Had I noticed there were few very "well-to-do" families in this area? He admitted shooting a couple of extra deer himself every season--more

The Old Man and the Deer Continued on Page 2


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