My Take Tuesday: Ran Over by a Reindeer!

Most of the reindeer photos I share feature Sven and Yuki, the resident reindeer at Mountain West Animal Hospital. They’re crowd favorites—gentle, photogenic, and absolutely adore kids. Sven even has a quirky fondness for the color pink!

But don’t be fooled by their charm. Male reindeer can turn into completely different creatures during the breeding season. As their testosterone levels rise, their personalities shift dramatically. This hormonal surge triggers the hardening of their antlers and the shedding of the velvet that covers them. While the process can look gory, with fresh blood visible on the antlers, it’s not painful—the antlers lose sensation once the velvet starts peeling off.

Unfortunately, this same testosterone-fueled transformation also makes them highly aggressive.

A few years ago, I got a call from a reindeer farmer in northern Utah. One of his males had injured the base of its antler, and with August heat and fresh blood, the risk of infection—or worse, maggots—was high.

When I arrived, I could tell immediately that the bull was in full rut. For context, this is when a male reindeer is at his most dangerous: grunting, snorting, and completely unpredictable. I had just left the office and, like the nerd I am, had stuffed an external hard drive into my front pocket—a detail that would later prove life-saving.

The bull wasn’t thrilled about being caught. It took three of us to restrain him while I treated his injury. His massive antlers were like weapons, powerful enough to toss us into the air with ease.

Just as I finished the procedure, the bull broke loose. He immediately turned and charged straight at me. I barely had time to react. Before I knew it, I was on the ground, the wind knocked out of me. The impact had left me gasping for air, my diaphragm temporarily paralyzed. When I finally managed a breath, an intense pain radiated through the left side of my chest.

As I gathered myself, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the shattered remains of my external hard drive. It had absorbed the brunt of the antler’s impact, likely saving me from a punctured lung or far worse. I walked away with two cracked ribs and a story to tell—but no lasting damage.

This experience taught me an unforgettable lesson: rutting reindeer are not to be trusted. They are, without question, the most dangerous animals I’ve ever worked with—far more fearsome than even the most ill-tempered Jersey dairy bull.

So, if you ever see a male reindeer grunting, snorting, and peeing on himself, do yourself a favor: back away—fast.

You’ve been warned.

And that’s my take!

N. Isaac Bott, DVM