Every now and then Mother Nature sticks a pin in my ego just to hear it pop. Apparently this spring she decided I was getting too big for my britches, and her rebuke was swift and humiliating. So the story begins…
Here on Vancouver Island, deer are smug. They don’t even bother to stop grazing on your prized perennials until you get within 20 yards or so. Then they look you square in the eye with an expression that clearly says, “Get lost. You’re interrupting my meal.” They’ll only move on (grudgingly) if you run at them, waving your arms and yelling. Dumb deer.
(I’m pretty sure Mother Nature snickered with evil anticipation when I uttered those words.)
We have an 8’ high pagewire fence to keep the deer out of our garden. It works fine, unless a tree falls on it. So when I glanced out the window and spotted a deer chowing down on my tulips, I didn’t need three guesses to figure out what had happened.
That’s when I made my first mistake: I charged outdoors yelling and waving my arms. And instead of fleeing via the open gate, the deer strolled away and vanished into the forest behind our house. Hubby and I checked the fence line, and discovered where a giant tree had fallen and smashed the fence flat.
Then we made our second mistake: We repaired the fence, assuming that the deer had departed via the same route it had arrived. (They usually do.)
But no; this time we discovered we’d trapped the deer inside.
That kicked off a gong show of ever-escalating attempts to evict the deer: Purchasing a motion-activated trail camera; floundering through dense woods looking for deer shit and tracks; crashing around in said woods with air horns and whistles; getting the neighbours to bring over their dogs; installing a high-wattage yard light; and constructing an elaborate corn-baited trap against the gate, so we could open the gate and release the trapped deer outside the perimeter.
Each time I came up with a new ‘foolproof’ plan, I patted myself on the back for being smarter than a cervid.
But each time, the deer outsmarted me.
At last, Mother Nature must have decided I was suitably chastened. One morning I spotted hoofprints and disturbed ground near a low point in the fence (right beside our brilliant trap). Apparently the deer had simply gotten bored and left. In fact, there’s a pretty good chance that for a few days the deer was jumping the fence both ways: Coming in to snack on the corn bait and then departing without triggering the trap. Embarrassing.
But despite the revelation that I’m dumber than a deer, I’m still calling the episode a win: The deer is gone and hasn’t returned.
Kinda like my pride, actually…
Book 18 update: I’m on Chapter 22, and Aydan’s former enemy is suspiciously friendly. Aydan’s not buying it, but she has to play along… for now.
Author Diane Henders 