Baby Blue

                  “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
                                                   ~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. 

                                       

                                              Little Blue and Baby Blue back in the spring.