We’d just returned from a trip to Boone, NC and a couple of my friends and I were walking my garden getting fern leaves for an afternoon of Gelli printing. As I bent down to pick some that were right next to the corner of my house, one of my friends let out a little yelp. She’s been looking at an unusually realistic garden statuary that wobbled itself up and started to walk away. It was a tiny fawn. She was so tiny, my Pumpkin cat is bigger. The photo above looks very much like her.
I was more startled than the fawn, having had my face so close to her and not even sensing her position or existence. I did the absolute dumbest thing by following her around the corner, frightening her and making her try to run on those spindly weak legs. I stopped after about 20 yards and let her go into another yard. We heard rustling behind my shed, an area within close proximity to the spot the fawn was resting, and we’re hoping I didn’t put too much space between the mother and the baby. I’ve been in a state of self loathing since this afternoon, wondering how I could be so stupid. I’m such a city girl.
I write this because I have in the past few hours learned a lot about the birthing process of deer, and how I should have reacted. This was definitely a very young deer. Could have been a newborn and probably a twin because it was left alone. I can hope that the mother will return since they often make their home near the place they were born, but I may have ruined things for them, and most distressingly, myself.
Learn from me, and stay back and simply observe when you see a fawn. No sudden moves, and don’t try to pet them or help them. If there is a problem, call whoever has control over such issues in your area.
I will never look at that bush and those ferns the same way again. My memory will always see that tiny spotted, sweet-faced fawn laying there like a statue. She’ll be in my dreams tonight, I am sure.