As promised in a recent 'Cuff, it's time to relate a "grizzly" story. Well, that's a misnomer; it's not really grizzly, but rather it involves stories of animals which have descended on our back yard and, yes, sometimes the deck.
Descended is also a misnomer. The critters we have entertained, or which have entertained us at various times, actually crawled, walked or climbed out of the woods into the yard.
One species which has become much more numerous is deer. The recent rose bush 'Cuff reminded me of when deer really loved feasting on our roses several years ago. They, the roses, survived a few years but, eventually, the rose bushes disappeared into the deer tummies. Also devoured have been hosta plants and strawberry plants which had been expected to produce shortcakes, preserves and just sampling fresh berries in the patch. No go.
Down through the years, we've also had a raccoon family -- three little ones and their mama -- peering through the patio door waiting for a handout. There have been possums, make that opossums, at various times and, until the back fence was completed, a groundhog or two which put a kibosh to the prettiest crop of green beans I've ever raised.
That too is a misnomer; those beans were deer dinner. Of course, there are the biggest pests -- you guessed it ... the squirrels, both gray and fox, and this spring a couple of little totally blacks who flashed their tails as they nibbled under the bird feeders and buried or dug for acorns under the pin oak tree. They are fun to watch.
Many, many years ago, I squirrel hunted a little. There were no deer in the area, or at least I never saw one. I don't think I could pull the trigger on one now. I couldn't hit it anyway.
Enough of this rambling ... except for the really "grizzly" sight I witnessed many years ago. It was back when Gravette's city dump was located north of town on Strawberry Ridge Road. There were reports of sighting bears, black, not grizzly, feasting on, or going through, the goodies at the dump. I never saw a bear there but, one snowy morning heading east on Detroit Street in Gravette, was -- I'll confess I'm not sure it was a small black bear but it looked bearish enough to be one -- a small black bear shuffling down the middle of the snow covered street. It crossed into a field and disappeared into the woods. Maybe, perhaps, my glasses were fogged in the just-before-sunrise frosty air. I'll leave it at that. That's as close to a "grizzly "story as I can get.
However, a few years ago I did experience what was a first. I'll try to make it brief. As everyone knows, there are plenty of deer roaming the woods, bustling into towns and gardens and one even crashed through a window of the Bank of Gravett (note no "e" on the bank name; that's another story) a few years ago. But back to my tale of whitetails.
It was early morning, again just at daybreak, when I decided to measure the rainfall that fell during the night. With measuring stick in hand (it measures in hundredths, that's for information) I stepped off the deck and there, about halfway to the rain gauge I noticed a frisky little gray squirrel. He was propped up on his rump feasting on a morsel under a crab apple tree. Suddenly, without warning, he scampered off through a chain link fence and disappeared into the woods, waving his tail as he ran. I hesitated, then turned again toward the gauge, when something flashed a different movement. The peripheral vision still works.
What caught my eye was a large doe deer near the fence, not too far from the gauge. My movement must have startled her because she began pacing and sort of pawing the ground in short hops. It was then I saw the small, nimble baby wobbling at her side. It dropped to its knees, struggled up and repeated the movement a couple of times. Suddenly, the mama deer (make that a doe) headed toward the back of the lot. The little fawn just stood there. I headed back to the deck so I would not startle them more. I knew she was trying to protect her baby.
Back on the deck, I glanced toward the wobbling little critter and I also noticed a dark blob on the ground near it. Since it was still slightly foggy, what the blob was didn't register. I continued to watch as mama deer worked her way back to her baby. He wobbled along beside her. Then she stopped, learned forward and began licking and nuzzling at the dark blob. Suddenly it hit me. I had just missed witnessing the birth of twin babies in the backyard. I went to get a camera but then had a second thought. Since the back yard is fenced and the gate was shut there was no way mama could get her babies out unless the gate was open. We were going to be gone for several hours, and I wondered if the babies would be all right until I returned to open the gate. Then she could lead her little ones to their new home. A contact with game warden Brian McKenzie assured me the babies would be fine. The mother might go away but she would always return to care for her twins. By this time, both fawns were less wobbly and mama deer seemed very content. We left.
Upon returning several hours later I was greeted with news that someone had opened the gate and mama had gone, one baby with her. I searched the yard but couldn't locate the other fawn. I assumed she had also returned for it. I shut the gate. I left again.
A couple of hours later a neighbor informed me a fawn was still in the yard. I finally found it bedded down in a patch of day lilies. I didn't disturb it. I opened the gate.
You probably know the rest of the story. It played out just the way Brian said it would. Sometime during the night the doe returned and now, no doubt, there is a family of three somewhere in the timber between Gravette and Sulphur Springs.
I know that's not a "grizzly" story, but rather one that I enjoyed watching, even though I missed the birthing and the final rescue. I learned a lot about how a mother deer, as well as other animals, protect their offspring.
Sadly, the drug problem in the human species sometimes, too often, interrupts that maternal instinct.
Epilogue: My only regret is that I had hoped to take a few pictures of the little deer family before I opened the gate to their freedom.
Reality: The pictures probably would have been out of focus or blurry from motion as I attempted to catch the action of mama deer and her two now frisky little ones. But it would have been nice to record a once-in-a-lifetime backyard experience.
Dodie Evans is the former owner and longtime editor of the Gravette News Herald. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 06/28/2017