We have deer around our house. Their snowy tracks proudly declare that they have been snuffling in our bushes, pawing through our lichen and generally poking around.
The other day, a young buck was waiting in my driveway when I pulled in. I had to get really close to him before he decided to move along. He trotted a few steps into our backyard and continued to wait. I parked the car and decided to show my kid the deer. As I was walking out of the garage, a young doe came zipping by, literally 5 feet away from me. I was glad that I didn’t send Luke out on his own.
Every day at about 2pm, a pack of deer come out of the treeline behind our house. They carefully cross the street and disappear behind our neighbors’ houses.
Sometimes they cross the other way. I have never seen a more brash bunch of deer.
Years ago, when we lived in Kingston, WA, we had deer issues too.
The deer liked to munch on our flora. We had such a hodge-podge of plants, bushes and trees growing, so I would expect nothing less.
However, we lived in the boonies at that time. Now, we are smack in the middle of civilization.
Deer are a nuisance. I am not sure if I should even attempt planting some nice bulbs come spring. Admittedly, I do like seeing deer. They make me feel like I’m living in the wild.
When I was about 10 years old, I remember my mother looking out of our kitchen sliding-glass door, and gaping at a huge creature in our backyard. She then exclaimed, “Look at that big DOG!”
I looked out the door and said, “Mom? That’s a deer.”
She laughed and corrected herself. I felt slightly mortified that my own mother would mistake a deer for a dog.
At least I have the opportunity to remind myself what a deer looks like – on a daily basis – I suppose.