Here's a little story for your enjoyment.
awww..... Everyone say it with me .......
This sweet little critter is just darling, so tiny, so gentle. It's young enough to still have its spots. How neat would it be to get close enough to one to be able to enjoy it?
Today I was close enough.
This is the shelter where I work. If you could see the rest of the property, you'd realize that it sits at the top of a big hill on several acres of open land. Said land is surrounded by a chain link fence that has recently been repaired so none of the holes are left in it. The only entrance/exit to the property is by way of the motorized gate which is lockbox protected. It's a very safe place to be.
Unless you're a few days old and terrified:
This (well, not THIS) little fawn accidentally got itself into the fence today. It had gotten its head stuck in the fence from the outside, and one of the residents decided to help free it. Just about the time she got its head loose, someone exited the property so the gate (naturally) came open. The frightened animal ran INSIDE the fence instead of away from the people.
Back story: the family went on vacation last week, and we played HARD in the water. I came home with sore muscles. When I got home from church Sunday night, the sore muscles had turned into a "boogered up" hip (Chris' words). It sort of feels like there's tacks in the joint. So I'm now hobbling around on this right hip that makes me feel like I'm 82 and need a cane.
Back back story: the shelter is insanely busy with a project right now, and today was D-day for me. I had a meeting with a manager (not mine) and several meetings with clients and potentially a city official or two, so I was "dressed up" (khaki pants and brown church shoes -- trust me, that's dressed up for us!) for our big day.
Ok, so anyway, so this sweet little deer gets into our fence and is now injured. The clients are chasing it around trying to get it out the gate, but it's not working. A co-worker comes to me (why!? I have no idea!) asking for the number for animal control. Google is my best friend, so I get her the number and ask why. She tells me there's a baby deer on the property. Being the nosy Nelly I am, I hobble outside on my "boogered up" hip to see what's going on. Here's the conversation:
CoWorker: I see it over there in the brush.
Client: I do too; I'll go this way, you go that way.
CoWorker (eyeing me): Oh good! Help!
Client: It's resting in the grass right now.
CoWorker: Ok, Erin, you go that way.
Me: Sure. What am I supposed to do?
CoWorker: Block the path.
CoWorker: Block the path in case it comes that way.
Me: And if it does, what am I supposed to do?
CoWorker: Catch it!
(remember the boogered up hip)
uh huh ....
There are two problems with this:
1. I. Am. Not. Wrestling. A. Deer. I don't care how little it is. I don't care how injured it is. I don't care if it's dead or alive. I am NOT. Wrestling. A. Deer! uh-uh.
2. Have you noticed that I can barely walk?!?!?! What on God's Green Earth makes you think I can CHASE. A. DEER!!!???!?!
About that time, said deer comes running at me and I promptly hobble myself the opposite direction. (see point 1 above.)
When Animal Control arrives, they come in 2 trucks. Big trucks. Two men get out of the truck. One is about 104 years old and winded just from climbing out of the truck. The other is about 50 pounds overweight (no judgment, just observation) and has 2 herniated discs in his back. These are the only resources available to us on several acres of fenced-in property. Laurel, Hardy, and two big trucks.
The younger one (Hardy) looks at me and says, "So what's the plan?"
Apparently I'm somewhat of an expert on wildlife capture!?!?
Laurel stands by his truck for the next hour shouting directions into his walkie talkie while Hardy, the Client and I attempt to chase a deer out of a gate. Every 10 yards or so Hardy has to stop and stretch to try to get the discs back in the right place. The client has taken her shoes off because the mud is so thick she keeps stepping out of them, and I'm hobbling along behind them.
After an hour, we give up.
The shelter has a new mascot and the thing can stay for all I care.
He earned it.