It’s been a couple of seasons since we’ve seen Loretta. I suppose her absence is one of those difficult realities of life. A lame deer in the wild can’t withstand an environment where predators reign and civilization encroaches.
My wife says we should be thankful. We all loved Loretta, but the reality is that this year, for the first time since I can’t remember when, we were actually able to grow a few tomatoes and herbs on our patio. That’s likely due to the fact that we’re not feeding Loretta and her fawns from the back door.
But this morning, as I was getting ready for work, I spotted two bucks in our back yard. A four-pointer galloped across the back yard. Behind him was a majestic six-pointer. I don’t know if he could see me staring at him through the wreath on our back door, but it looked like he was looking right at me. The deer like the back right corner of our yard. There’s lots of tree coverage, and there are fences on two sides, making it a safe space to bed down for the night or on a cold day.
I stood at the window far longer than I had planned, just watching this buck. His muscles were visible under his darkening fur. Every now and again he would shake his head vigorously, releasing droplets of accumulated rain into the air. I noted that he never strayed farther than the middle of our yard, just past the yard swing we placed there several years ago. The swing is one of the few items my wife has left that belonged to her mother, who has been gone from us more than 20 years. It’s a reminder of family and love and Lisa’s days growing up by the creek in Chattooga County.
The buck appears to like the swing. Several times, he walked behind it, still staring at me. Turns out that his fur is about the color of weathered wood. It would be a pretty good hiding place were it not for his beautiful antler crowning his head.
Still watching him, there was movement to my right at the back corner of the yard where the fences meet. There was a doe. Her back right leg is lame. She immediately made me think of Loretta, though it was Loretta’s left front leg that was lame. She limped slowly along the back yard, stopping to use the bathroom, which is difficult for her given her hurt leg. When she was finished, she returned to the safety of the corner of the yard, and that’s when I realized what was happening.
This imperial buck was her guardian. He’s patrolling the access points that would lead to the hurt doe, likely aware that the two chihuahuas at my feet would chase her and him away at a moment’s notice. These otherwise loving pups are fierce about one thing and one thing only – our property. No interlopers allowed! They needed to go outside for their own morning ritual, but I delayed it as long as I could. There in the drizzling rain, on a gray day where only the oaks still hold their leaves, a regal buck, crowned in rain-glistening antlers, was protecting a helpless doe.
And now, I am left with a conundrum. Do I buy carrots, apples and celery for this animal who could use the help? Or do I let nature take its course in favor of having a small garden next year? My wife is in favor of the garden, but me? As much as I have groused about the lack of blooms and vegetables in our backyard, I can’t help but remember Loretta, our pandemic deer who brought calm and trust and innocence into our lives during those difficult years.
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