Deer in the Yard

I’vesaid it countless times over the past 35 years – I am so blessed to live on myfour-acre plot with mighty trees just outside my window. Some mornings, acacophony of bird voices greets me when I go out my back door. Squirrels, chipmunks,and two renegade rabbits roam my yard at will, much to the consternation of ourcats and, most recently, our new dog. This summer, a toad has taken upresidence on the front stoop. A few bears have even wandered through.

         But the most graceful and beautiful of the wildlife is the whitetail deer. Overthe years, I’ve had different does with their precious, spotted fawns feedingon the grass. A few bucks have nobly joined them. Our old dog, Dino, mostlyignored them, and they saw him as no threat.

          For two years, a lame doe tried tojoin my loosely organized herd. I was able to get a close-up picture of her andcould see where she had been shot in her shoulder, with that leg mainly hanginglimp. Watching her hobble through the woods broke my heart.

          I was feeding the deer in my woods atthe time, and she knew I was her only hope of survival. When I put the foodout, the rest of the deer hung back twenty feet or so. I’d wait for Gimpy toapproach first; the others would try to run her off, but not when I wasstanding my ground only ten feet away. She’d gratefully eat her share while Istood guard, quietly telling the others that it wasn’t their turn yet. By thestart of the third winter, I never saw her again.

          But here we are many years later. Wehad to put Dino down two years ago, and this past winter, I couldn’t stand nothaving a dog any longer. So we brought home our adorable two-year-old corgi,Hannah. Since she joined the family, we haven’t seen as many deer comingthrough the yard. Only one morning, we watched a doe and her two fawns walk thepath they usually took through the back yard and into the woods.

          On a different morning last week,though, a doe and her single fawn picked their way through the front yard. Hercoat was grey from shedding her summer coat, and the fawn’s spots werebeginning to fade. Yes, autumn has arrived. (And it's hard to get a decent picture through the screen in the window.)

          The week before, a fawn had met itsend on the road about a half-mile from our house. It dawned on me that it must bethe sibling to the fawn I was seeing now.

          Foremost in my mind was that it hadbeen two weeks since my own baby had passed away.

          Was God trying to tell me something?That I still had another child to live for, to care for – even if he is nearlyforty? Was God reminding me that life goes on, no matter what tragedy we aredealing with?

          I don’t know. I don’t think so. Ithink it was more of a reminder that a mother’s love never ends, and I know itwon’t for this mother.

          And also that I still have more to bethankful for than to be unthankful for.