Dear Deer

Today, I inadvertently startled a deer. It was almost high noon, so what exactly brought that deer (a doe, I think) to my backyard? Certainly, I've let my landscaping get wholly out of control, almost going back to the forest primeval, but her presence there is still a puzzle.

Part of the problem was that I didn't realize it was a deer until the damage was done. Standing in the kitchen, waiting for coffee to brew I glanced out the patio door there and couldn't figure out what I was seeing. It looked like a small tree had broken off about a foot from the ground and that a squirrel was sitting on the severed trunk. Only there had never been a tree growing in that particular spot and the large lump next to what appeared to be the trunk didn't look like the top of a tree. It looked more like a dirty burlap bag.

Lovin', one of my house cats who always takes on guard dog duties, was keeping a very close eye on whatever it was, so I moved toward the patio for a better look. The squirrel morphed into a deer's head which immediately swung in my direction, the burlap bag became its body, and the speed at which the whole thing rose and ran was amazing. I stood in confused awe wondering how and why it had found it's way into my (mostly) fenced and gated, albeit overgrown, back yard.

I've always known there were deer in the neighborhood and have occasionally seen them crossing through yards at twilight or sunrise. I've seen where they've pruned bushes and shrubs and a couple summers ago they and the rabbits munched thoroughly on every newly planted perennial my neighbor Lara put in her garden. I've also noticed protected areas in my yard that have been flatten in a circular way, and assumed that a stray dog or some other semi-domesticated animal had mucked in there for the night. But a fully grown deer? At noon? Alone? Such an idea never occurred to me.

My home is situated in a well developed older area about a mile from an Interstate and about a quarter mile from one of the local creeks. Although thoroughly populated, there are numerous green ways and unbuilt sections, so it is not unusual to see wildlife that, while not completely displaced by human encroachment, have been highly inconvenienced. We're overrun by squirrels, oppossum, chipmunks and raccoons, but we also have foxes, woodchucks, hawks, and a host of other creatures. All of them are wisely leary of humans, but the deer are particularly careful.

When the doe scampered away toward the side yard, I worried about where she would go. Ours is not a heavily traveled neighborhood, but there are often cars on the cross streets and various workmen busy around the well tended houses. I was frightened for her. Then from the kitchen, I looked with squinted eyes through the patio doors in the living room. She was standing in an overgrown side yard area looking back toward me. I found myself moving very slowly as I got my coffee and walked carefully in the opposite direction.

Now, here I sit, typing this experience into my blog and worrying about the welfare of that darned doe, almost afraid to go back and see if she's still safe in my yard and feeling a trifle guilty about being curious in my own home.

Okay, so I went to check, staying away from the windows. I didn't see her, but she is colored to blend with the winter terrain. I hope she's there, secure in a hidden spot, but I'm planning to keep an eye on the cats. They'll probably let me know if she moves or returns. Should she 'hang around' I'll end up giving her a name, and we all know what that means. We'll kind of belong to each other. Cool.