A doe and her babies frolicking in the summer field.

The call came two days ago. “Glenda, there is a dead doe in your field near the road. It has been hit by a car.” Not good news. Robert knows all of the area deer. He has not named them per se, but he knows all of them from watching them and them watching him in the gardens day after day, month after month, year after year. He knows the old ones and middle-aged ones and the young ones! He is the first person to see the new fauns when they are just getting “their legs.” These animals are his friends in the fields! Robert was away, but I notified him and asked him to investigate. There are some activities I am happy to delegate.

A couple of hours later when he returned home, Robert reported, “That young doe was not struck by a vehicle! I am sad she died, but this was an act of Nature. It appears the coyotes got her in the night. This is a much better way for her to go as they attack at the throat and she would have never known what happened.”  Oh!!! Robert went on to describe in great detail exactly why he was able to make this determination. Suffice it to say, he was certain and he knows wildlife and the ways of Nature. I passed on a personal viewing as I had an accurate description and I have a vivid imagination.

The next morning I left early for an appointment. Sure enough, the remaining carcass was in the field near the road. I returned home about three hours later to find six buzzards in the field. Let’s just call them part of the cleanup crew.

When we drove past the site on the third day, there was no visible sign of the earlier carnage. Robert was with me. I asked, “Did you bury her?” He replied, “No. Look. There are buzzards in the middle of the field.” “How did she get there?” I asked. His reply was perhaps a bear or maybe the coyotes came back last night. He reasoned the middle of the field would be preferable for any animal over being nearer to the road for finishing their meal.

Thirty-six hours later, little remains to tell the story of her tragic death except for the skull, rib cage and bit a fur—all of which will be relocated before the first mowing of the field next spring. I am sorry. I realize this is not the type of story I typically relate; however, this is reality for Wildlife. And Natural Order is very purposeful and efficient in dealing with death. I promise my next entry will be Merry and Bright!

The Field of Drama . . .