Veering this thread back to the OP.
In Illinois, the person that hit the deer has "dibs" and/or right of first refusal. Should they decline, the first person to speak up gets it.
Several years back after OCP moved their warehouse from the westside of Chicago to North Aurora, one of my inner city employees (Curtis) hit a deer on the back road to the place one morning. Not knowing what to do, but know I hunt, he calls me. (and not 911). I call 911 and proceed out to the scene (not more than a mile from the warehouse.) I get there and there's a doe in the ditch, busted rear legs. (He apparently caught her in mid leap as she attempted to jump over his headlights.) She's still very much alive and he's freaking out because A) She busted his windshield and B) She's still alive in the ditch and not happy about the situation.
Shortly thereafter, in what I can only determine is a practical joke on the part of the NAPD dispatchers, pulls up this 5 foot nothing petite blond "Community Service Officer". I quickly inform her of what happened and point to the deer and say "You have to put her down."
"I have to WHAT ?!?!?!"
"Put her down."
"What to you mean 'Put her down'?"
"Shoot her to put her out of her misery, it's cruel to let her continue to suffer."
"I'M NOT SHOOTING HER !!!"
"By law, you have to, I can't."
"I'M NOT SHOOTING HER !!!"
"Fine, call back and ask what you should do."
About a minute or so later with Bambi's
* mom still trying to claw her way out the ditch while screaming at the top of her lungs, I her the petite CSO scream into the radio. "I'M NOT SHOOTING HER SOMEONE ELSE NEEDS TO COME OUT HERE !!!"
There's some further discussion and she throws the radio handset in disgust. (Apparently, all the other officers were "busy" or so thoroughly enjoying her plight that they weren't willing to end it.)
"So do you need to know where to shoot her at, because this needs to end now.
"I'M NOT SHOOTING THE DEER !!!"
"Fine, hand me your pistol and I'll do it, but if anyone ever asks, you did it, and I have no idea what you're talking about."
So, I do the deed. Safe the gun, and very, very thoroughly wipe it down before handing it back.
"Curtis, do you want the deer?"
"
What ?!?!? What am I gonna do with a damn deer?"
"Can I have it?"
"Hell yes !!"
So I quickly field dress the deer as Officer Squeamish takes the TA report, then load it and Curtis into my car to head back to the warehouse. (We later went back and got his car and called Safelight to replace his windshield. Took it over to them as they were in the same warehouse development as us.)
About 3 weeks later, I threw a Venison cook out at work on Friday. Let's just say that Venison isn't widely eaten either south of the border, in Puerto Rico, or the Westside of Chicago.
*- Bambi was a boy.
