Nature is hard

Nature is hard, and I am soft-hearted. My friends in Tuscaloosa called my house the Orange Street Animal Mission; they knew that I would feed any cat that showed up (and eventually adopt many of them). I’m happy that no stray cats have shown up at my house here, but there are plenty of other animals around. I feed birds (and, indirectly, squirrels), as well as the deer you often see in this blog and the possums, raccoons, and other critters that scrounge for the leftovers in the dark (or sometimes in the late afternoon).

Much of the terrain in French Broad Hollow is steep, and the slopes and ravines are full of fallen trees, vines, etc.

Deer are generally sure-footed on these slopes, thanks to their hooves and strong legs. But those legs are slender, and sometimes when a deer slips in the mud and/or snow, something goes wrong. An injured doe that is able to get to the meadow, where they know eating doesn’t expend a lot of energy, will likely be driven away from the food by a dominant doe. When I see this, I feed the injured doe separately and keep the others away.

I recognize many of the individual deer and their families, and it is hard for me when one of them is injured. When I saw the first injured doe (Gimpy One) several years ago, I thought she might die in the meadow that summer day. Whatever caused her leg problem also caused her udder to drop, too, but she raised her two fawns from that year and another set of twins the next year. She disappeared later that fall.

Gimpy One could still put weight on her injured leg, but the others I have seen seemingly have not been able to do so. And unfortunately there have been several others over the years; sometimes I see them only once, but others come for several days or weeks. I feed them closer to the house, where I can watch. The latest one showed up last week and came regularly for several days, but I haven’t seen here since earlier this week.