“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye
so hard.”
~A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh~
~A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh~
I had forgotten that the deer were called White-tailed
Deer. Usually, they don’t run from me,
but for the last few weeks, they have. I suspect that someone has been in the
woods, probably hunting, but their trust in humans is gone. That is probably a
good thing..for them, but I enjoyed their greetings every morning. They are starting to come back…a few does and
their growing spotties come up for breakfast, and I have notice a single
little guy that hangs around the horses and the cabin. The deer can be hard to
identify, although some have faces that look almost like llamas, some are more
of a tan color, some have scars or jagged ears, and of course the bucks can be
identified by their antlers and coloring.
Last week, while drinking my morning coffee and waiting for
the sunshine, I saw the swirling circle of a group of buzzards. Now buzzards seem like disgusting creatures,
but they play an important role in nature.
If there were no scavengers and cleaner uppers, the woods would reek!
They are interesting to watch. It seems
that they have spotters that report back to the pack when something is discovered,
but to one who has ancient horses, it was a disturbing way to start the day.
Arriving at the barn, I saw that the horses were fine and
hungry. I went about feeding them, and I
was relieved to hear Shadow meowing from under the cabin porch. After morning
chores were finished, I decided to investigate a little further. I took the trail above and behind the
cabin. I didn’t have to go too far
before I spotted the frenzy of eaters…and a deer on the ground. I didn’t go too far, but I could see that it
was a doe. I don’t know if she had been
shot or hit by a car or what caused her death, but I knew she was one of the
girls. They had been too scattered
lately to know who was missing.
Tonight at the barn, the little spring spottie was at the
barn, and again, it was by itself. By now, I had decided that it was the baby
of Little Blue, one of my favorites.
Deer have personalities just like people and pets. Some are grumpy and selfish, and some are
gentle, giving, and loving. Little Blue
was the doe that befriended a little mallard duck. (She got her name from her hound dog like face and big brown eyes.) The duck had an injured foot. It could fly, but it was hard for it to stand
or walk. Almost every morning, it would
fly up to where Little Blue was eating, and she would run off the other deer
and ducks so the little guy could eat. I
posted about them several times. She had her baby late in the spring, and I had
worried when she stayed in labor for several days. This little guy had spots up until hunting
season, and Blue was very protective of it…She would never leave it alone for
so long. I’m sure she taught Baby Blue well (a name I gave it as I sat on the
cabin porch tonight in tears)…and I’ll do my part to watch over it.
Nature can be both beautiful and harsh. Death is a part of life, but it seems that
there have been too many losses lately…and it has taken some of the most loving
and gentle souls…I sat on the cabin porch until it was almost dark. I realized
that my tears weren’t only for Little Blue, but also for my sister and for
friends that I’ve lost this year, but like Pooh, I’m lucky to have had
something that makes saying goodbye so hard.
