Earlier this week, as you may have heard, Maine Game Warden Dave Georgia and a host of others were called to a building at the University of Maine, where a deer had apparently decided to check out some of the educational opportunities available at State U.

Georgia and the gang ended up having to engage in a spirited session of deer-wrasslin’ and the perpetrator eventually succumbed to the stress caused during its ill-conceived foray into the always-risky world of academia.

“I always wanted to join the rodeo,” Georgia said with a wry chuckle on Thursday, before explaining that the situation wasn’t really a laughing matter. The deer situation on Marsh Island – on which UMaine sits – is reaching a frustrating level, he said.

And the campus deer invasion (this was the second deer-in-a-building report in two years) illustrates the problems facing wardens in the field.

“Everybody keeps harping on us,” Georgia said. “[They ask] ‘Why can’t you just tranquilize these deer and move them?'”

The answer, Georgia said, is that deer deal with being tranquilized in much the same way they deal with being wrestled to the ground and carried out of a building: Poorly.

“This is just a textbook example,” Georgia said. “They can’t survive the stress. It didn’t matter [what we did] in this case. The same outcome would have happened if he’d been tranquilized.”

Matt Dunlap, an Old Town legislator who is the chair of the Inland Fisheries and Wildlife committee, said that while firing a dart at a deer and leisurely relocating the animal to the wild sounds like a great idea, it’s not as simple as it sounds.

The mortality rate of tranquilized deer, he said, is about 70 percent.

Which brings us to the larger issue at work this week: Marsh Island has a huge crop of deer. And many people think something ought to be done about it.

Dunlap said estimates range from 45 to 65 deer per square mile on the island. The state’s population models suggest that 25 deer per mile is ideal.

As you may have guessed, hunting is not allowed on Marsh Island, which is considered a game preserve.

And as you also may have guessed, some locals are getting fed up with their well-fed “neighbors.”

“Over the years, it’s been about my No. 1 constituent complaint,” Dunlap said. “In the late summer and fall, I get two, three calls a month from constituents [who want the problem addressed],” he said.

Car-deer accidents are one concern. Agricultural damage is another.

Dunlap said one constituent said she had seven deer in her garden the day before she planned to harvest her crops. She threw rocks at the deer and tried to scare them off, but the gorging whitetails paid no heed. The next morning, her vegetables were gone. Every last one.

Georgia said he hears the same complaints year after year.

“A lot of people want things to happen because they can’t even grow a vegetable garden on the island any more,” he said.

There is progress on the matter, however.

Dunlap said meetings between Orono and Old Town officials and other interested parties have illuminated the problem and some suggested solutions have been offered.

A meeting involving university officials is scheduled for December.

One option supported by some: Opening Marsh Island to bowhunting in order to cull the herd.

Dunlap said the people of Orono and Old Town will ultimately decide what they want to do about the Marsh Island deer.

And his years in politics have shown the affable legislator that at some point, civil conversation and debate may fly out the window.

“The casino has nothing on deer,” Dunlap said. “Nothing divides a community like deer. People will file million-dollar lawsuits against their neighbors to stop them from killing deer. People don’t mince [on this issue]. They’re into it.”

You’ve undoubtedly heard the clich? about people who can “fall out of bed” and do something. Perhaps “Jim-Bob can fall out of bed and catch fish.” Or maybe “Mary-Margaret can fall out of bed and start an argument.”

Well, Kyle McGeechan of Plymouth may not be able to fall out of bed and shoot a deer … but he can apparently wake up and do so.

That’s the word from his grandfather, Raymond, who reported that 12-year-old Kyle took his first deer (with a bow, no less) on Tuesday afternoon while hunting in Hampden.

Kyle did, however, need a wakeup call before making a perfect shot.

“He was sleeping in the stand with me,” Raymond McGeechan said with a chuckle. “I woke him up.”

Kyle McGeechan, who woke up at 4 a.m. to go hunting and had taken the chance to catch a little nap, quickly appraised the situation and downed a doe that weighed about 125 pounds.

Congratulations, Kyle.

Seen and heard: Heard, earlier this week (long after legal hunting hours): a single gunshot in the woods near our new suburban home.

Having just moved “to the country” from in-town Bangor, I’ve been surprised by the number of nearby gunshots I’ve already heard while working outside.

As a new (and enthusiastic) hunter, I’m a bit disheartened. Hearing shots in the distance is one thing. That noise always gets my heart racing and leads to the same question: I wonder who just got their deer?

Shots as close as this one (and in the dark, no less) lead to other, more ominous thoughts.

Like: I wonder if that guy knows how close he is to a house? And: I wonder if the wardens would have time to get here and catch him if I hurry inside and make a quick call?

Other landowners have posted the land around our home against trespassing, hunting, and nearly everything else you can imagine.

As a rule, I disagree with those whose first chore after buying land is to run to the hardware store and buy a box of nails to tack up all their “POSTED” signs.

When you start hearing shots in the dark … or shots that are clearly well within reach of your home? Well, it’s easier to understand why some folks choose that option.

As outdoors enthusiasts, we need to consider not only our own desires and needs, but also the concerns of the folks we share the woods with.

Your neighbor may not share your passion for hunting. He may not share your taste for venison. He may even secretly believe that the fact that you drive around wearing blaze orange clothing means you’re someone not to be trusted.

Many of us would argue that most of us are fine, upstanding folks who take our ethics seriously.

Just remember: Every time a shot rings out in the dark … all of us become suspects in the minds of some.

And every time a shot is fired so close to a home that the unsuspecting owner flinches and dumps his morning coffee in his lap, manufacturers are bound to sell another box of nails, and another stack of “POSTED” signs.

We’re in this together. Let’s use our heads.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.