Another unusually hot day causing me to spend less time outside under the baking sunshine and more time on the computer. Hubby returns from running some errands and there is excitement in his voice.
"Tabor, come outside, I want to show you something."
"What?" I sigh.
"A baby fawn...on the outside of the fence."
He sets down a package and continues, "I got out of the car and heard this bleating sound. I thought it was some strange new bird and so went toward it and there on the outside of the deer fence was this fawn calling out."
Well, damn it, I will just walk outside around the fence! It is about a half block long so it took me some time to get through the driveway gate and make my way around through brambles and poison ivy and prickly holly to the edge of the ferns where hubby said he had last seen the fawn.
We gently looked everywhere and were just about to give up when hubby stepped back to turn around and head back to the house and at his heels there looking up at him was the tiniest little fawn I had ever seen bleating so sadly. We must have stood there in shock and awe for some time before we decided that the fawn must have lost its mother to come up to us. We easily lifted it into our arms, took it into the house and tried to give it some water, which it lapped very hesitantly. We took it outside to the fenced garden, afraid our air-conditioning might be too much of a shock for such a little thing, and then came back inside and called DNR for help.
They referred us to a local rehabilitation house (a home) run by a retired vet, I think, hubby had done all the talking on the phone.
We wrapped the fawn in a towel and I placed it on my lap in the car and hubby started the GPS and proceeded to the house on the other side of the county. A young teenage girl, who worked for the vet, brought us inside. The animal house itself was a disaster. It smelled like a zoo, there was junk every where, floors needed washing, rugs needed vacuuming. The vet, who had been showering, greeted us in a bathrobe and was also surprised at how tiny this fawn was. Born maybe just days ago! Even he had to take a photo!
He weighed it, felt its stomach, and looked at its eyes and declared it very healthy and recommended we return it to the woods. He said there was food still in the stomach. We were glad he said this, because I do know sometimes mothers leave their young for some time, and did not want to keep it or leave it with him in that disaster of a home.
We took the little beastie home, washed it down with a damp clean cloth to remove any of our smell and returned it to the woods. It stood there looking longingly at us as we placed it on shaky little spindle legs and did not move. I pushed its behind gently and it finally walked into the deep ferns and amazingly disappeared almost instantly. We have not seen or heard from it since, so I am hoping is well! That is, until that little creature becomes a yearling and starts eating our shrubbery next year!!