It’s so hard to do: leave the fawn where it lies when you find it. Here’s my story about the success of doing just that:

June 11, 2024

The family has come and gone. Echoes of their being still cling to the walls-laughter, shrill screams, and animated conversations hover over the pool, on the deck, through the thick blades of St. Augustine. We have been together for two full days of merriment and my heart is full.

I have come to my usual full stop after so much togetherness. I need space and time to allow all this good to soak into the sum of my experience. What joy!

Sitting in my backyard swing, I drink in the stillness, munch on raw walnuts, apples, and dried cranberries, sip cold iced water, and observe: this is my happy place. Voluminous, white rounds of cloud climb the sky. Perhaps there will be rain. Cicadas drone. The cardinal sings. Roo, my Chihuahua, has found something interesting under the iron plants nearby. She is focused and on point.

The day before the family arrived, a fawn appeared in our front garden. I think it was newborn or maybe a day or two old, but that was the first time I’d seen it. I have just seen it again, four days later. This time, it is hunkered under the cantaloupe vines growing in my raised garden bed (pictured above). It looks well but I don’t see its doe. So, I have opened the front gate and left it ajar, hoping the doe will come in at dusk to feed its fawn. This is what I have read is the best thing to do unless a fawn is obviously hurt (bleeding, bleating, etc).

Just now, the doe arrives, moving ever so stealthily, silently, and slowly across the yard. At first, I barely see her and probably would not have seen her but for the fawn’s movement. It rose. Moved in her direction. That’s when I noticed her. I am elated! Even though I cannot see them now, as they are hidden behind the tall tangle of cantaloupe and cucumber vines in my garden, I know the fawn is feeding and I am delighted!

After a few minutes, I see the doe moving through the vines. She jumps over the rock wall and saunters toward the gate. The fawn follows her into the thick bushes of four-o-clocks and Nandinas. I cannot see them now so I watch the clearing just ahead to see if they will cross there, going toward the front gate I have left ajar.

I secure Roo inside the house so she will not be a bother and resume my position on the swing, watching the clearing. Ah! Now the fawn is nearer, under the Elm, but I do not see the doe. Could she have snuck by me? It is certainly possible, as I might not even know she is here unless I had seen the fawn stand and move toward her earlier.

There! There they are together, standing by the side gate. Darn! I didn’t open that gate. That is one way the doe knows she can sometimes get into the yard. I am very quiet and still, but she senses me and looks in my direction, registers my presence, takes a few steps toward me then bolts! The fawn follows.

Hooray! I hope they have run out of the front gate and into the field next door but I cannot see from where I sit whether or not that has happened. A few minutes pass.

Nope! Here is the fawn again, looking lost, looking around for the doe which I imagine did run out of the gate. Is this the same fawn or were there two? I run to open the side gate so if they make a pass by again, they can get out that way. The fawn wanders toward the back corner of the yard and settles itself next to the wood pile, resigned to wait for its doe again.

It is late and I am going inside. I am hopeful that when I am inside, the doe will return.

July 12, 2024

Last night at dusk, I closed all the gates since I had seen neither doe nor fawn in hours. I thought they had left the property. But, when I came out to have my coffee in the swing this morning, Roo tagging along as usual, I have just gotten settled when Roo lets out a little yelp from behind the deck. After a minute or two, I go to check on her. There is doe, standing only a few yards from me, Roo, circling and charging her.

The Doe stomps and lunges at Roo. My heart rate quickens. Doe can be quite aggressive when they have a fawn nearby. I had checked all around the back fence line and the woodpile when I came out and hadn’t found the fawn, but the doe’s presence and her stomping and snorting let me know the fawn is definitely near.

I call Roo. She doesn’t come. I go closer, thinking I can pick her up, but my approach only makes her want to get between me and the doe. So, I change my tactic, (this is something you’ll learn to do if you ever have a Chihuahua!). I command, “Let’s go, Roo!” I start for the house. It works. She follows me and I swoop her up and take her with me to the swing. The doe stands her ground, not moving.

The neighbor’s dog, Reese, comes to the fence to see what the ruckus is all about. Thankfully, she doesn’t bark, but when the doe sees her, the doe moves toward the fence and the dog. When Reese sees the doe, she retreats without barking or running the fence. Thank Goodness! There could have been a real brawl.

Once the doe decides all is quiet, she moves back into a nearby clearing and takes her feeding stance. The fawn that has been completely hidden comes running to her and begins nursing. What a joyful sight!

The gates have been closed so I know the doe has jumped in over the fence to get to her fawn, or she has been inside the fence all night, but with the gates closed, the fawn cannot get out. So, when the fawn finishes feeding, and the doe starts moving through the brush and toward the gate with her fawn wobbling behind her, I run to open the side gate.

I really do want the doe to take her fawn out of our fenced property and into the open field next door. The worry about whether they are together is too much. I know that if they are in the field, the doe can easily hide her fawn, leave it to feed herself, and come back to where she left it.

I sit, holding my breath, watching the clearing, hoping, finally, the doe will lead her fawn out of the gate. It is only a minute or two and I see the doe, head down, skulking low out of the gate. I wait, craning my neck to see. And yes! There goes the fawn, out of the gate and with its doe. Hallelujah!

I know they are as safe as they can be for now in their natural habitat, and I am relieved and overjoyed!

Namaste Y’all!

d