Last fall I was back in bed having my second cup of coffee one morning and looked out the window to see three very large deer standing in the big meadow. Despite their size, they were obviously all ladies as none had antlers. All three were staring up the hill, still as statues, so I got out of bed to see what they were looking at.
Two small deer were walking sedately toward the three, but when they reached them, suddenly all five began what I would call a game of tag. White tails flying, they chased each other around the meadow, leaping and pouncing like kittens. They dashed in circles, up around the knoll, back down, romping through the tall grass. What a sight! It went on for more than ten minutes. Then two bounded gracefully over the fence into the far pasture and the others disappeared behind the knoll.
Most people have a love-hate relationship with deer. How could anyone not love Bambi, or the sight of a doe standing sentinel as her fawns graze in the twilight? Anyone would delight in watching my five deer playing tag in the meadow. When deer decimate the shrubs and trees on your property however, that warm and friendly feeling vanishes faster than the leaves on your shrubs.
I suspect I would feel the same way if these beautiful woodland creatures were a problem on Locust Hill. Fortunately the combination of the forty acres of good grass and clover that surround the house plus always having dogs who sleep outside, has precluded the deer from bothering to nibble on anything close to the house.
As a consequence, I have no first-hand knowledge of solutions to the deer problem, so the following suggestions are merely passed on to you from friends and magazine articles.
A Maine company with the clever name of LegUp Enterprises sells the urine of various predators - fox, coyote, wolf - that you sprinkle around your shrubs as a deterrent. This solution, or shall we say these solutions may scare off the deer for a while, but not for long. No matter how scary or offensive the deterrent, deer will eventually get used to it. Even such concoctions as a combination of rotten eggs, chili peppers, garlic juice and chlorine topped off with a solution called Bitterguard, used to keep children from biting their fingernails, won't deter them.
Fences are almost useless unless they're high and electric and make your property look like a concentration camp. Noise seems to be one of the best ways to discourage the deer. A record of barking dogs called Deer Gard Pro that plays off and on through the night should be as affective as the Taylor dogs, who periodically bark for half the night, hearing either deer or coyotes out in the meadow.
A hundred years ago there were approximately 500,000 deer in this country. Their numbers were controlled not only by natural predators and hunters eager for venison, antlers and hides, but also by the lack of good habitat. The unbroken forests of yesteryear provided little cover or food. Deer like wood edges and openings, and have delighted in our small woodlands and suburban properties. The deer population has soared to an estimated 15 million.
A doe usually has only a single fawn the first time around, but from then on she has twins each year, or sometimes even triplets. A fawn, polkadotted with white spots and weighing no more than five or six pounds, is wobblier than a newborn calf and can hardly stand. Within hours his mother has given him a good scrubbing with her tongue so she can identify him in the future.
She leaves the fawn in a safe place while she forages for food, returning to nurse about six times a day, but after the first month she expects her young to follow her around. If the fawn gets lost it can bleat just like a lamb. This past summer I heard just such a bleat and was amazed to see a fawn standing in the middle of the lawn.
That tiny spotted deer was no bigger than Clover, who dashed out to play with her, and Clover is no bigger than a beagle. I quickly snapped a picture, knowing no one would believe that my dog was conversing with a fawn. Unfortunately when I tried to enlarge the picture for this column, it turned into fuzz.
The fawn didn't want to play with Clover and took off, so frightened that she dashed right into the pond. Unfazed, she swam across to the other side, scrambled up the bank and fled across the meadow.
I feel so sorry for all my friends who are cursed with deer problems, torn between love and hate for these beautiful animals.
