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Goodnight, Deer

GOODNIGHT, DEER I never gave much thought to the deer in our backyard. After a few years on Orcas, we take no more notice of them than we do a seagull. Many properties have a resident herd. Ours includes about fifteen does, fawns and young bucks. If they eat my flowers, they are a pain in the ass. On the flip side, however, venison can be very tasty. We haven't hunted in years, and I don't have a garden now. Our deer are left to their own devices. One September evening, we were babysitting our 20-month-old granddaughter. She was starting to get fussy, so we went into the kitchen, thinking about cookies. Our herd was out in full force, dutifully nipping the heads off the dandelions. Nearly every morning, the yard would be awash with yellow flowers. By nightfall, nothing remained but green. I smiled. If they had been petunias, I would have been mad. Instead, I silently thanked them for keeping the weeds down. Jordan saw the critters, forgot all about cookies, and squealed. "Deah! Deah!" She stood on the counter by the window, jumping up and down and pointing. "That's right." I said, holding my arms out to prevent a chance fall, "Deer. A mama deer and some baby deer." "Hi, Deah!" She said waving through the screen. We stood at the big window and watched the deer. There were at least half a dozen, spread out over the acre or so of our "yard". Every few minutes for the rest of the evening, Jordan ran up to me, asking "Nana, deah?" We tried telling her the deer had gone to bed. Nope, I had to prove it. Being the marshmallow that I am, we made countless trips back to the window. It was worth it. Each sighting was as exciting as the first. At one time, there was a doe within five feet of the window. Baby J laughed, and talked to the deer, until past dusk when the final doe and fawn had moved off into the woods. "Nye-nye, deah," ("good night deer" to any non-moms that are still with me.) "Nye-nye, deah," Jordan waved into the darkness as I dropped the blind. "Nye-nye, deah!" Until that night, the last time I really looked at a deer was through the sights of an air rifle. I call those the tomato wars. I'm more inclined to be forgiving now, but I had forgotten to notice the natural beauty of our tiny island black-tail. Seeing the world anew, through innocent eyes is just one of the privileges, of being a grandparent. September 8, 2007

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Watching deer with my granddaughter

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SlipperyWh...
7/28/2010 3:07 PM
Oh man what is wrong with people shaming this???

 



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Uploaded By:

Buddhacat


Votes: 10
Views: 1,691
Date: 10/6/09
Category:
Other: Writing