Not in My Backyard

Wednesday, while I was listening to a lecture, my two home-on-a-bogus-snow-day girls came running and yelling, "Mom! Mom! There's a GUY in our YARD!"  I got up to look out the window and Molly then added, "He might be a policeman."

He was a policeman, and his cruiser was parked in front of our house.  So I asked if I could help him with anything.  He said there was a report of a deer that got hit by a car.  I looked across the street and saw deer ears sticking up behind a little hill in my across-the-street neighbor's yard.  "Well, there's one over there, and I think it's been there awhile, " I added, remembering that I had seen those ears sticking up earlier.

The policeman didn't look as if he actually wanted to get too near this deer, and got pretty close before the deer kind of hopped up and wobbled a little.  I would have bet my bank account that was the deer; usually they sprint.  Plus, there was a trail of deer prints from the street, about where the cruiser was parked, to the deer.  But the policeman got in his car and pulled away.

Two hours later, I looked out the front window and saw the deer curled up under a tree in the same yard, just sort of looking around.  The snow was falling and if I hadn't known it was hurt, I would've found the scene kind of peaceful.  I'm pretty sure the deer was dying, though.

Our neighborhood doesn't really appreciate the deer.  They annihilate gardens and poop all over the yards (and our dog, for one, likes to eat it), and are the hosts of ticks. But as much as I joke about target practice, I don't really like to see one suffering.

Yesterday, the deer showed up right in my backyard. It made itself a little spot and sat there shivering for hours.  Thankfully the snow is piled so high that when Biscuit stands at the patio door he can't see over it, so he had no direct line of sight.  Otherwise, he would have gone crazy. The thing would try to get up every once in awhile, but it was clear that something was wrong with its hind left leg. Finally, I called the DEC, because the police hadn't seemed very willing or capable the day before.

Apparently, there are a lot of rules about who can take a deer when.  The DEC can take them out (as in shoot them) while they are alive, but can't haul them away.  Animal Control can't take them away alive, only dead.  So the DEC guy said "If I drop it, I leave it." Great.  A big old dead deer in my yard.

The DEC officer said deer can live with 3 legs, and he would prefer not to shoot it. Could I see if it will move when I actually go towards it? So I secured Biscuit, got on my boots, and tramped through the snow. And got closer to the deer than I wanted to.  It finally got itself on all fours and I heard a sickening crack and saw a big wound on its leg.  It hobbled off to my neighbors yard.

I informed my neighbor that a DEC officer was on his way to her yard with a gun.  She was less than thrilled, of course.  The deer tried to get back in our yard, but I decided to make a trip outside again to let it know that my yard was not a place it would die.

The DEC officer came with his gun and made that deer's adrenaline pump apparently, because it made it all the way into the woods up the hill and he never got a good look to see if it was injured beyond its leg. He told me that if it showed up again, give him a call and he told the neighbors the same.  Haul away for dead wildlife isn't free. Take out of live animals is.

Then I felt a little guilty.  What a good neighbor, shooing the deer to die anywhere but my yard.  I decided that if it came back, I would just deal with the consequences.  Otherwise, I was just sticking my neighbors with the problem. Although the thought of a big dead deer in my yard still grosses me out.