Why Do They Call Them Dear?

photo courtesy http://www.ForestWander.com

Twice this week I went to town, and both times I saw a doe and her fawn in the same place on our road. I drove slowly behind them.  The sweet little newborn fawn was barely old enough to be dry, and tried to keep up with its mother on long, wobbly legs. When the doe jumped into the woods, the little guy made to follow her, but as soon as it got off the gravel road and into the tall grass of the ditch, it immediately dropped and lay motionless, as flat as it could press itself to the ground. It happened exactly like this both times.  It's an inborn instinct for all fawns to drop and freeze when in danger. Because it's born with no scent, many times a fawn will escape an almost-certain death as it lies still, while its mother lures the predator away from where her baby is hiding.

I sat in my car for a few minutes, looking at it --- then drove away. One should never touch a fawn, as your scent would be left on it, which might cause the doe to abandon her baby. It's hard, though, to look but not want to hug.

SO! This morning I went out to the garden --- muddy, weedy mess --- and discovered gargantuan deer tracks (if I didn't know better, I'd guess it was a moose). Also, what I discovered was that said deer had pigged out on my baby tomato, cabbage, and sunflower plants. I WANTED TO KILL!

I give up! I couldn't be a market gardener if I wanted to. Each year I dread starting a new garden. Last two years I had to deal with drought; now weeds are taking over, because it's been too muddy to work. And I'm getting all crippled up and slow. If gardening, a lifelong joy, no longer gives me pleasure... let it go! Sow the whole meadow in rye and take up wildlife watching.  Transform the place into a Pony Park and make some money  ... Move to town! Rrrrrrrrrr!

ME AND DEER?

IT'S A LOVE - HATE RELATIONSHIP!