Bad Bambi

GO TO THE INTERNET SEARCH ENGINE of your choice. Type in “aggressive deer,” oxymoronic though it sounds. Prepare to be amazed.

Those soft-eyed creatures, who seemingly could do no greater harm than eating tulips, who look so sweet and startled as they graze by the roadside in family groups, are a scary bunch of mammals. This fall, five Californians were gored at their homes by deer. One, an elderly man in a suburb of San Diego, died. Helena, Mont., has roving urban gangs of hundreds of troublemaking deer. Four were shot after they wouldn’t let a newspaper carrier walk his route. Wildlife officials say complaints are increasing.

So go ahead and celebrate the season of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Just celebrate carefully. Be cautious around strange deer; remember that Donner and Blitzen are running around under assumed names (the poem originally had them as Dunder and Blixem).

In all fairness to Santa’s team, the attackers were mule deer -- the kind most commonly found in local parks and forests -- not reindeer. Any male mule deer in autumn rutting season, or a female protecting a fawn, can spell trouble.

Like coyotes and mountain lions, deer have been getting too comfortable around people as developments push into their former grazing lands. They aren’t carnivorous and appear harmless and picturesque, so suburbanites take few efforts to shoo them away or control their population. People make matters worse by leaving out food and water for them. Despite conventional wisdom, vegans can be vicious.

So how do you say no to a deer and make it listen? The common advice used to be, “Get a dog.” Then a rogue deer attacked dogs in the Bay Area a couple of months ago. One sure-fire home remedy: strategically placed lion droppings. ‘Tis the season to befriend your local zookeeper.