I watched the graceful forms of the two little innocent creatures continue on down the grassy path. They were enjoying this new place, tasting the leaves and the tall grasses, oblivious to the dangers that could befall them now that they were “wild” animals. My heart ached and I wished I could hold onto them and protect them from the world. “This is the hardest part”, I told myself--the letting go. I turned and headed back to the truck, reluctant to say goodbye to my girls. “I almost had to cry,” I said to Officer Edwards. “It’s like sending your kids out into the big bad world.”
How was it possible that three months had passed so quickly? Wasn’t it only yesterday that I was bottle feeding these babies? Wasn’t it only yesterday that they were spotted, leggy little things with huge appetites for their special formula? Wasn’t it only yesterday that I worried that Ivy may not survive her first night with me? They had become beautiful young ladies over night it seemed.
Like a child counting down the days until his trip to Disneyland, I await the arrival of each June with the same anticipation. June is the peak of fawn season and the daily calls regarding fawns believed to have been abandoned usually result in momma deer returning for her baby. Deer very rarely abandon their young. Most of the babies found hiding have been left there by their mothers while they go off to feed themselves. Most of the time these deer return for their babies. Once in a while a fawn is left motherless. Cars, dogs, predators and humans interfere and a tiny innocent wild creature is left orphaned.
June 12th, 2008
I received my first motherless fawn of the year. This fawn had been found in the parking lot of a local drinking establishment. A woman working at the bar took the fawn from a couple of individuals who had obviously enjoyed a few too many cocktails and were mistreating the fawn. At the end of the night she took it home with her where it spent the night sleeping in bed with her daughter, as if it was a family pet. After they’d had the fawn for a couple of days they decided to do the right thing and contacted the Game, Fish and Parks Dept.
The fawn appeared healthy and well-fed. I couldn’t help wondering what might have happened to the mother. Or did nothing happen to the mother and was there now a doe out there somewhere missing her baby? I was excited to have another fawn to raise but I didn’t want to raise it by itself. I really hoped for a second fawn so this one would have another fawn to bond with. I named this fawn Lilly.
Each day brought a new “fawn” call and as it turned out, each of these calls had a happy ending. We usually instruct the caller to just give it more time and momma will return for her baby. It began to look as if I would be raising Lilly by herself, something I did not want to do. She needed at least one other deer to bond with and if I didn’t receive at least one more fawn I wasn’t sure what that meant for Lilly and her release.
Friday, June 20th
I attended a meeting at National American University. I mentioned to Dr. Peggy Behrens, director of the vet tech program at NAU, that I had a fawn. I visited with her about the fact that I really hoped for a second fawn so Lilly would have a buddy. I worried about her fate if she were raised alone. I never like to raise one of anything. Not only do they need another one of their kind to bond with, but they also need another one to learn from and with. If Lilly didn’t have another fawn to grow up with, she would have only me.
How strange it is, the way things work out sometimes. The next evening at about 10:30 I received a phone call. The caller told me her name was Crystal and that she was a vet tech student at NAU. She and her fiancé, Jeremy, had discovered a very tiny fawn in their yard. It had actually been in the neighborhood for a couple of days now and no doe had been seen. The fawn had wounds around it’s throat and now had grown quite weak. Not at all happy with the options they were offered by the police officer who answered their original call, Crystal called Dr. Behrens and asked her for advice. Dr. Behrens gave her my name.
I instructed Crystal that as hard as it is to do, the best thing would be to wait another night and see if a doe showed up to care for this fawn. I told her to call Game, Fish and Parks in the morning if the fawn was still there and that I would call her in the morning to see what the status of the fawn was. The next morning the fawn was still there, no doe had come to care for the baby. Crystal called GFP who then called me and gave me permission to go and get the fawn myself.
This second little mule deer fawn was very tiny. She was cold, weak and dehydrated and would not have survived another night on her own. The wounds around her swollen throat were infected and hot to the touch. We tried to coax her to eat the formula I had brought along with me but she was not interested in it. That was not a good sign and I was worried about this baby. I took her home with me and notified GFP officials that I had the fawn and that her prognosis was guarded. I named her Ivy.
Lilly immediately had to investigate the new arrival and got into the crate with Ivy. She turned and gave me a look that told me she was claiming her as her own. I so hoped this little one survived.
She didn’t yet have the “I give up” look in her eyes but she was so tiny and weak. I wondered what affect it would have on Lilly if this little one did not survive. She seemed to be so happy to have a friend and willingly accepted the job of big sister and protector.
Ivy did not eat with the same enthusiasm that Lilly did. It was as if she didn’t know how to nurse. I know in some other species if babies don’t nurse right away or soon after birth, they have a difficult time knowing how to nurse. I started thinking that maybe this baby had never nursed from her mother. If that was the case, this baby really needed to eat. I began squirting small amounts of formula out of the bottle into her mouth. Fortunately, she swallowed the warm liquid and did not just allow it to run out the sides of her mouth. She’d swallow and I’d squirt more formula in. This is how it went all day. I fed her frequent small meals, each time hoping that she would begin to nurse from the bottle.
Evening came and as I walked out to the fawns to feed them for the last time that night I told myself that I needed to be prepared for the possibility that Ivy may not make it through the night. I fed Lilly first. When she’d had her fill I fed Ivy. I whispered under my breath, “Please, please start nursing on the bottle.” But this feeding was no different than any of the other feedings of the day. I’d squirt, she’d swallow. Then came Magic Time. Lilly came over to us, always curious about what was going on. She sniffed my hand , the hand that was holding the bottle to Ivy’s mouth. Then, as if to say, “Here little one, let me show you how”, she began to suck on one of my fingers. As soon as Ivy heard the sucking sound, she began to nurse from the bottle. She emptied her bottle in no time. I was ecstatic!! And of course I started to cry. I kissed the top of Lilly’s head and whispered “Thank you.” Ivy, with tummy full, walked back to her crate and laid down for the night. Lilly went to bed in her crate. And I went to bed that first night feeling a little more hopeful about Ivy.
I couldn’t wait to go out to the fawns the next morning. I was still a little apprehensive, not sure if Ivy had survived her first night. Lilly caught site of the bottles and came to me immediately. I peeked into Ivy’s crate and there she was, staring back at me with those big brown eyes. She seemed a little more alert and bright-eyed and she remembered how to nurse from the bottle. Feeding time for Ivy was no longer an issue. Later that day I watched as Ivy walked out of her crate on her shaky little legs and got into Lilly’s crate to lay beside her. From that day on they shared a crate and I would frequently see Ivy sleeping in the curve of Lilly’s body, Lilly’s eyes speaking with their silent eloquence, “Don’t worry, I will keep her safe.”
September Arrived. The fawns had kept the grass trimmed, eaten most of my flowers and angered my rabbits numerous times. They had chased the ducks, investigated the fence between my back yard and the neighbor’s and learned to go up the steps to the back door. They ran wild through the yard, my Free Spirits, and every evening I held my breath as they ran full speed ahead and stopped on a dime just before they hit the fence. I knew it was only a matter of time before one of them attempted a leap over the fence.
I had to start planning for their release. I wanted to release them in the same place the three males had been released two years earlier. I wasn’t sure if that was still an option so contacted Conservation Officer Jeff Edwards, who had helped with the release of the three males. He told me it was a perfect spot and also offered to help with the release of Lilly and Ivy. We set Friday, Sept. 12th as the day for release. I looked forward to that day with mixed feelings. It was time for them to go. They didn’t need me any longer. But I had so enjoyed watching them grow, observing behaviors that were instinctive, seeing the bond grow between the two of them. And I had a special affection for Ivy.
The day of the Release Arrived
We loaded the fawns onto the truck and off we went. The spot that we chose for their release was the same spot the three males had been released. There had been a lot of rain so there was a lot of vegetation. Everything was so green and lush. It almost didn’t look like the same place as two years earlier. Officer Edwards had brought along a spray paint so we could mark the fawns and hopefully observe them for a few days following their release. I’d had the fawns loaded into their crates when he arrived that morning so he hadn’t seen the fawns yet. He peeked into Lilly’s crate, got a surprised look on his face and exclaimed, “That is a big fawn!” I felt a little proud--a job well done.
We marked both fawns with the red paint and then opened up the doors of their crates. Neither of them bolted. They were both quite stressed from the trip and just sort of came sauntering out of their crates. I walked with them for a while down the path and into the trees. We said our good-byes and, though my heart was breaking, I turned and walked back to the truck. I turned and looked back at the fawns. They were continuing on down the path, moving further and further away from me, exploring, enjoying this adventure in the woods. I knew I would be back the next day to see how they had survived their first night being wild.
Before we left the area, Officer Edwards showed me how to get to a spot on the surrounding hills that looks right down into the place where we released the fawns. It was my plan to come back to this spot on the hill the following day to look for the fawns. The next day was very windy and I didn’t see the fawns, or any deer for that matter, from this spot. So, it was back down to the release site to see if they were still there. I didn’t see them right away. They weren’t in exactly the same place that we had left them. They were in another little stand of aspens, peeking out from the trees, standing motionless. It had rained the night before so a lot of the paint we had marked them with had washed off, but there was still enough of it there to tell me these were my girls. I whispered, “Oh, there you are.” At the sound of my voice Lilly came toward me. Ivy, always the cautious one, stayed in the trees and did not come near me. I was squatting in the grass trying to get some pictures of them. Lilly came to me and put her head against mine. I so wanted to just sit like that for hours. We sat there head to head and then she began to lick my face. I, of course, started to cry, and knew that for them, I had to leave. I had to leave and not come back to look for them. I knew my heart would overrule my head if I came back and saw them again. So, with Lilly’s kisses still fresh on my face, I left. And I didn’t go back.
I know that when this June approaches I will once again be that little kid anticipating his trip to Disneyland. I won’t hesitate for a moment to answer “yes” if asked “Can you take another fawn?” Even though I know how much it hurts to let them go. It’s the price you pay for a priceless experience.
“We’ll be okay."
© All Rights Canyon Lake Veterinary Wildlife Rescue, 2009