Bambi and his mom? Shoot to kill!

Deer hunting in Cape Girardeau? Bring it on. Start at the Sullivan house. Please.

Yes, I know there are some concerns about men, women and children armed with bows and quivers of arrows roaming the streets of our fair city stalking wild ruminants. But the deer lost my vote when they started showing up in packs. In our yard.

Our house is not in a rural area. It is less than two blocks, as the deer runs, from the university campus. But you might think we were in the Ozarks because of all the critters around our house.

I declared war on the squirrels last summer. My wife agonized over this new character flaw of mine. I've never been able to hunt. I would rather admire a wild animal than fire a rifle at one. But the dang squirrels were taking over.

I'm not talking about how they messed with the bird feeders. They were taking over our house, chewing their way into the attic, destroying the gutters, ripping huge holes in the gutter mesh designed to keep out leaves, digging holes all over the lawn, planting thousands of baby oak trees, chewing through the telephone wires behind the house.

I just got fed up.

I am a peaceful man. I do not advocate killing. I'd rather catch a mouse in a live trap than one of those finger-breaking snapper things. But when small rodents with beady eyes and bushy tails invade my home, I have a duty to act. Over the course of a few weeks last summer I captured 52 squirrels in a live trap. I stopped trapping because (A) there is no market for squirrels and (B) there are more squirrels in my neighborhood than one person could possibly ever trap in a lifetime. Trust me on that.

That's because we no longer live off the land. We live on supermarket food. If we still had to depend on our wits for dinner, there wouldn't be so many squirrels.

Or deer.

Missouri was nearly rid of deer not so many years ago. But hunters got tired of having to go out of state for fresh venison, apparently a dietary staple at the time. So the Department of Conservation began deer-restoration projects. Boy, those folks are good at what they do.

Calculations of the cost of Missouri's deer-related damage every year don't come close to the real figure, because most of the damage is never reported to any official agency. For example, the sheared-off begonias in the two urns in front of our house -- never reported.

Just before the ice storms hit, I was leaving for work at my usual 5:30 a.m. when I heard a noise in the front yard not too far from the garage door. When I investigated, I saw something moving. I couldn't tell at first if it was man or beast. Then I realized it was several beasts. Five deer, to be exact, all rummaging in the azaleas.

Hey! I yelled. I don't know why anyone talks to wild animals, but there I was, yelling my head off at them.

They were not afraid. They moseyed over to the street. And stopped. I got in my car and backed into the street. There they were, 10 bright eyes in my headlights.

I ached for a loaded rifle.

But wait. Shooting wild animals in the city is illegal. That's why a conservation agent -- remember, they're the folks responsible for the deer explosion -- has proposed bow hunting for deer. Other cities do it. Maybe we should too.

Safety? I'll let the statistics speak for themselves. How many cars have crashed into deer on Missouri's highways in the past year? And how many Missourians have been shot with an arrow? You do the math.

I'm so excited about the possibility of deer hunting in Cape Girardeau that I am proposing a major change in our city's calendar of activities: The Louis J. Lorimier Memorial World-Famous Downtown Golf Tournament and All-You-Can-Eat Catfish and Wild Game Buffet. Arm all downtown golfers with bows and arrows. Let's stamp out those pesky deer while we can.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.