Friday, June 7, 2013

A move, a woodland creature, a tropical storm




In one week.  ONE WEEK.

What I expected was “hey, welcome to country life. We know you’re new to this whole I Have A Farm thing so we’ll take it a little slow. Relax, open a beer and enjoy the peace and quiet. Go on, build a bonfire, make some smores. It’s all good, dawg “

 
Okay, day one seems to be going well

What I got was “Oh good, you’re here. Listen, I know you don’t even know which box your raincoat is in but there is a tropical storm headed your way in, um . . . let me just check the radar. . . oh yeah, now.  There is an unfortunate doe in the drainage ditch in front of your house who appears to have been on the receiving end of a front bumper and when you go investigate you will find a day old fawn bleating pathetically nearby. And just one more little tiny thing, that cranky thoroughbred over there is going to kick the living snot out of your right leg (double barrel, even) because he wants to be in the other paddock. Ok, so . . . welcome!”

Here she comes!

 
After the swelling went down. Horses.


Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in, deep breath out. More wine in, deep breath out.

Ever try convincing 3 teenage girls that they can’t keep a cuddly little fawn that is trying to nurse on everyone’s neck?
DD #3 with the baby

DD #1 bonding




“Pleeeeease???? Look, he loves us!”

Ugh, someone get this knife out of my heart. He was awfully cute and I admit I toyed momentarily with the idea. I mean, c’mon, just look at him.



But then reason grabbed me by the hair and said “Get it together, woman! You can’t keep this adorable, snuggly, loveable little baby. You don’t even have a place to keep it safe from predators. Now get your butt in gear and come up with a better plan before I have another tropical storm sent your way!” So I did.

He was delicious.

Kidding. I will likely never be able to eat venison again. I called the emergency wildlife number and they gave me the name of a fawn rescue in Wilmington. We loaded up little Walter and drove the 2 hours so he would have the best chance of a safe and happy life. Those people know their stuff and in no time had him drinking happily from a bottle (not as easy as it sounds).  He will spend the next 4 months growing with the other fawns and then move to a different rescue where he will be transitioned back into the wild in a protected area.

DD at the rescue, they see a bottle and come running!

It feels good to know we did the right thing, and now we can go back to figuring out farm life.

I will be busy trying to remember which box I packed my sanity in.

6 comments:

  1. Ok, I snorked when you said he was delicious. Adorable and so glad he can grow up with all the other little fawnlets!! Hope you found that raincoat and hope to see piccies of the new place!

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    1. Snorked! Funny. I will definitely get pics of the new place up soon. Hope to catch up at the next show :)

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  2. Jen, Can't believe I found you on the internet but even more surprised to see that you're now into horses!! Not sure if you remember horses were/still are my greatest love... Not even sure if you will remember me but we were friends a very long time ago. For some reason I thought to look you up. I always felt bad for losing touch, but you know things happen... remember the bagel connection, florida trip, etc? u can e-mail me at shorelineequine@yahoo.com . would love to catch up -H

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  3. Wow! What a small world. I have sent you an email. I can almost smell those bagels cooking! How did we not gain eleventy billion pounds working there!

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  4. Those fawns: dying. Way too cute.

    Also, I love your blog, and have nominated it for a Liebster Award! Check out this page to pick it up: http://greybrookeventing.blogspot.com/2013/06/liebster.html

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