Remember how I heaved a sigh of relief when the deer finally left our yard? And remember how I speculated that Mother Nature must have finally decided I’d been punished enough?
Ha.
I’ve always suspected Ma Nature has a sadistic streak, so it was with a sense of inevitability that I discovered more damage in my garden last month. Only this time it was serious.
Every morning I trudged miserably out to catalogue the newly-denuded stumps of cherished fruit trees, veggies, rose bushes, and other ornamentals… despite the 8-foot-tall fence around our yard. Every afternoon I added more fortifications, until the yard was crisscrossed with complex mazes of fencing and netting. The deer got more and more brazen, strolling around and chowing down on the garden even in broad daylight.
Hubby and I sharpened into a precision tactical team. With a single cry of “Deer!”, we both rushed for the door: I (carrying my Gel Blaster) to open the gate; and Hubby stealthily circling around from the rear. Then I fell back and together we stalked the deer, easing it toward the gate and then opening fire with shouts and soft-gels to drive it through.
We kicked that deer out of the yard several times a day, and every evening. Each time the deer would trot across the road before slowing… and then circling right back. And it kept getting back in, throwing itself at the fence until the wire ripped from its posts and it could scramble over. The garden was decimated, and I felt besieged. What the hell was wrong with this damn deer? We’ve lived here seven years and no deer has ever attacked the fence before.
At last, all was revealed when Hubby glimpsed the deer in the woods: It wasn’t an ‘it’; it was a ‘she’. And she had a fawn. No wonder we couldn’t keep her out.
Without much hope, I purchased a deer call to simulate doe grunts. The salesman at Cabela’s openly laughed at me, and in my heart of hearts I knew he was right: There was no way I was going to be able to lure the baby outside the fence.
But the very next morning, Mother Nature (and Mother Deer) finally relented. I looked out the window and there was Mom in the yard… with two fawns gamboling after her. Absolutely adorable! And, more importantly, positioned so that we could herd them out the gate.
After all our practice, it was ridiculously easy. Mom knew the drill by then. In fact, I’m pretty sure she was counting on us to open the gate so she and her babies could leave the nursery. The operation was accomplished in only a few minutes, and they trotted calmly away into the forest. As Mom flicked her tail nonchalantly in our direction, I read the thought-bubble above her head: “Stupid humans.”
And I hardly even minded, because the fawns were SO cute. (And SO GONE!!!)
But I haven’t relaxed. In just a few short weeks, the fawns will be old enough to jump almost as high as the mother. I really hope they’ve forgotten about our yummy garden buffet…
Book 18 update: I’m beginning to wonder if this book is cursed. Every time I start to make progress, something else goes haywire. But despite demonic deer, a forced transfer to a completely new publishing distributor, some necessary updates to book covers and promos, “fire-smarting” our house and yard for the current wildfire season, AND another round of medical appointments for my cranky back… I’ve managed to complete Book 18’s plotting! Stay tuned for writing progress, hopefully soon. 🙂
Author Diane Henders 