My Babies are Growing Up

Last summer, we had four babies that would us visit every day, usually twice a day — just to be fed.

They were four fawns, born in the spring of 2010. Last summer they still had their white spots. By mid-August, mama was no longer wandering with them as often, but she would be watching — somewhere. If we looked, just right, she could barely be seen standing among the brush in front of the tree line.

This year, though, we don’t see the fawns as often. When we do, they are either wandering by themselves or with another deer, maybe a sibling or a friend. And no more white spots or mama. 

We usually see them in the morning and evening, sometimes in the afternoon, coming to eat leaves, apples, grass and flowers. Mama taught them well last year — they ate ALL the leaves off of our brand new apple trees this spring! So, a bigger wire cage went around the young trees. The leaves are now beginning to sprout again, but they will not be food for our four-legged visitors.

Last year, the white-tail deer wobbled a bit on their unsteady legs. As they grew and their legs strengthened, they would frolic in the yard like two children playing tag. 

Then, when it was time for a snack, the fawns headed back to the full-grown apple trees and plucked off some more leaves or apples to eat. As they bit into a juicy, yellow apple, we heard a crunching sound as their jaws moved from side to side chewing and savoring every bite. 

The apple trees usually look like those Christmas trees people have when their children are young and into everything — nothing on the lower branches. Since the deer ate most everything within their reach, they decided to try the neighbor’s ornamental trees, standing on hind legs and pulling the leaves off for a tasty meal.

When the fawns were still rather young late last summer, and as I was pruning my black raspberry plants, one of “my babies” wondered toward me. I stood perfectly still — "where’s my camera when I need it?" I thought.  It came within 30 feet — just a little further and I could have pet the fawn. 

But, just then, mama “said something” to the young deer. He, or she, turned and looked at her. Then back at me.  I knew that look. My children used to give me the same one. “But Mo-o-o-m.” However, my four-footed child listened to its mama and scurried away. 

This year, they don’t come so close. They have learned to run when we come out onto the deck and our scent is in the air.

Soon, “my babies” will move on to lives of their own. They will find a mate and new fawns will emerge from the woods to make discoveries of their own. 

I guess all babies have to grow up.